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Maxwell Clouse Mar 2019
She hides behind closed ears and doors
Not wanting anyone to see or hear,
her hit rock bottom.
Completely helpless in her journey
to find happiness once more
Blinded by her selfishness and despair
she shed blood here and there.
watching it pour like a waterfall in the spring.
Surrounding every inch of the floor.
Slowly but surely fading into darkness.
Down, Down, Down.
  Mar 2019 Maxwell Clouse
Carla
You miss a meal,
Then it turns to two,
A day passes,
And no one notices you.

Craving nutrition,
There goes a week,
Those many hours,
Longing for something to eat.

Using the same excuse,
"I'm not hungry, I just ate,"
The numbers keep dropping,
Was sixty-three, now fifty-eight.

You can't go back,
People are noticing you,
They say you should eat, and you say,
"You have something better to do."

It's harder than you think,
Just leave me alone!
Stop telling me to eat and drink!
If I need you, I can find my phone.
This poem is about an eating disorder, it’s dangerous and those that have it can be greatly effected. Not only them, but those around them as well.
  Mar 2019 Maxwell Clouse
She Writes
You asked me why I like you
But I didn’t want to tell
Some of my reasons are cheesy...
But here is why I fell

I love the way your lips curve
When I make you smile
It makes me want to pull you close
And kiss you for awhile

I love the way your eyes twinkle
When you talk about things you love
I truely believe
You are a gift from above

I love that you are compassionate
You have such a big heart
That was the first thing I noticed
Right from the start

I love the way it feels
When you hold me tight
I finally feel safe
Like I could sleep through the night

I love that you don’t judge me
For my less than perfect self
That is more attractive
Than any amount of wealth

There are so many more reasons
But I’ll start with just this few
Maybe someday
I’ll give this poem to you

:)
  Mar 2019 Maxwell Clouse
Wanderer
Artists are often
broken people
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
and although
being healed
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art
  Mar 2019 Maxwell Clouse
susurri
He asked her what it's like living with anxiety.

She smiled sadly, "It's a never-ending pulse-race. Like knowing you don't want to jump off a cliff but not being able to talk yourself down from it.

Your fears take on a nebulous, unidentifiable form that tightens around your throat and incapacitates you.

There is no calm. No peace. Only the edge of a very strained thread."
  Mar 2019 Maxwell Clouse
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
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