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A sea of names
--the waterfall of praenomen

Nary just a sobriquet
this is who you are, child
or what you shall grow into

Bathe in it
take drink from its fountain
aver your lifeline and identity
to the cascading baptism

It's your birthright
Inspired by Jamadhi Verse's poem "inamorata"
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4189088/inamorata/
  Jan 18 Dante Rocío
Alex Kabat
rest in pieces
to the red ant
that just lost its life beneath
my white Air Forces

those who crawl towards me
always seem to fold
under the weight
of my soles --
Nikes, and a weak heart
that is proficient in the
art of manipulation

an empath that seems to
hurt more than heal,
a motherless child still
inhabiting the body
of a nineteen-year-old

a writer utilizing the distance of fiction
to erase the proximity of my past,
i mask pain beneath the guarding arms of a genre

another ant scurries across
the stone seat
and the sickest validation clouds my vision:
there’s many more where that came from
I read a quote somewhere that said,
"I don't know how many times I have survived myself, without telling anyone else."

And I felt those words shoot through every nerve in my body. I felt them so deeply.

And I wonder how many of us feel the same way.

How many nights we fought off the suicidal thoughts, the urge to cut, the urge to purge, the urge to run or to hide out, alone, too afraid to worry or bother our friends and family.

How many days and nights have we all suffered in our own darkness alone?

People like us fight a battle no one can ever fathom because it's a battle no one can see. And we don't let them.

I've fought myself and survived myself alone so many nights.

There were nights I use to lose my own battle. But some how still came out alive.

I guess that's how we keep going. Because every time we give up we come out stronger.

You fight yourself and beat yourself up for so long that eventually you become a master of surviving a war.

We're warriors.

"I don't know how many times I've survived myself, without telling anyone else."

Tonight, I'm telling all of you.

I survived myself.

And if you're still here and you're reading this, you survived yourself too.

It's not easy but you did it.

And I'm so proud of you all.
The original quote "I dont know how many times I survived myself, without telling anyone else.", which triggered the whole poem was written by @deadwatered. A talented poet I follow on tumblr.
Only if she isn't the moon,
roped down from heaven,
if she doesn't keep time
for your symphonies with her step
if she leaves you as you were,
instead of fever-stricken, breathless, burning
if you forget her when she's gone
and remember how to sleep without her
then you should let her go.
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