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 Apr 2019 Hannah Rose
Lydeen
Mia
 Apr 2019 Hannah Rose
Lydeen
Mia
Tired...
but Beautiful

Awake...
but Still Sleeping

Alive...
but Starving

Dying...
but Slowly

Eating...
but Not Really

Ugly...
but Pretty
 Apr 2019 Hannah Rose
julianna
Pain
And suffering
And evaporated tears
And razor blades
And laxative teas
And skinny jeans
And diet pills
And angry words
And impulsive decisions
And lies
And bleeding lines
And swollen wrists
And puffy eyes
And long sleeves
And stay-in-bed-all-day days
And avoid-the-crowd-for-days days
And won’t-mind-getting-hit-by-a-car days
And bitten tongues
And sad songs
And bleach shots
And fake Instagram posts
And living through YouTube videos
And fasting
And failing
And then no longer caring
And feeling like it’s all over
And then doing it all over,
All / Over /Again
Trigger warning... This poem is to anyone who has ever been through or is going through any of these things. I know your pain. Although I’ve made a major recovery (anxiety/anorexia/derealization/ depersonalization/panic disorder) and am always getting better, sometimes certain things haunt me. My PM box is always open to those in need of a listening ear or a friend.
Stay strong **
 Apr 2019 Hannah Rose
morrigan
Order 90---
I am hesitant to get my tray.
I sit down, open the box
And breathe in fumes of decay.

You are greasy, thick, and full of fat---
Everything that disgusts me.

My body hates you.
My taste buds love you.
My stomach can't stand you.
I have to get rid of you.

I hover over the water
Seeing my reflection.

White porcelain haunts me
As I take a deep breath...

And let the sickness consume me.
suggestions to make this poem better are wanted. it's for a class and this is just the first draft. thank you!
 Apr 2019 Hannah Rose
Philipp K J
What's that rare precious gift
To present the grace of human race?
The branch of man
the land of seeds
that sprout and spread
And bear fruits
Of love that precedes
the mellow flesh and seeds
The fellow who makes the feeds
The love that filled the hills
the thrill of silent scenes
The killer will to still the love
And will to live within the love.

What's that rare precious gift
To present the face of human race?

An open heart
A winding embrace
Sweet overflowing lift
And a scintillating kiss!
will it surpass the praise?
Or suffice to surprise
Her a rare precious gift!
Never regret the words that are written by you.
For we as people are always growing, changing.
Just the thoughts that are in our heads are too.
God is using you some where to encourage them.
The strongest Heart, could be the poet that is struggling.
The Poet that is struggling the most was who I meant.
So as long as you have air in your lungs here on the earth,
You have an chance to change lives through your heart.
God also uses our Poems to help reach others in the same situation.
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