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 Aug 2020 Jen
Anastasia
Angel
 Aug 2020 Jen
Anastasia
There was an angel who fell from the sky
And I mended his broken wings
But it pained me so
When he had to leave
He blessed me goodbye
And kissed me on the cheek
And promised that
He’d come back for me
a late-night written poem
 Aug 2020 Jen
Bree
Addicted
 Aug 2020 Jen
Bree
I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.
6 months self harm free! Writing about it helps fight the urge
 Aug 2020 Jen
Hugo Pierce
I am swimming in an endless ocean
At the mercy of temperamental waters
My effort dictated by an apathetic sea
The volatile storms give reason to my struggle
But when the crashing waves cease
And the tide is still
I wonder why I am even swimming
There is no land in sight
No clear direction
Yet if I desist
I begin to drown
Sometimes I just hold my breath
Sink into the depths of despair
Just as I am ready to accept my demise
My toes brush the jagged coral
I mustn't rest on this bed
Or I'll sleep forever
Suffocating
I muster what little energy I have left
Launching off the seabed
Ascending through the pain
Gasping for air at the surface
Relief washes over me
I have escaped the jaws of death once more
Only to end up back here
Swimming in the endless ocean.
This poem depicts the struggles of suicidal depression. The way each day can seem like you are constantly at war with yourself just to maintain your sanity and repress the thoughts that try to take over. The bad days often better than the good because you have a justifiable reason to feel bad. Often you get tired and can want to sink into the dark place rather than fight it, but it can get so bad that you are ready to give up. Usually, at this moment you find a reason to survive and carry on. When you have reached rock bottom, it's either do or die. You work to pick yourself up and put the pieces back together, start getting out of bed, eating again and exercising, only to end up back where you started, fighting each day just to be ok.
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