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When day break faded into dusk, youth
crumbled with folly. I was needed.
so I promised I'd be strong

When your faulty fingers fell into
the openness of mine. I was wanted.
so I promised I'd be strong

When the voices once hiding bared fangs
and solace left with silence. I was lost.
but I promised I'd be strong.

When I searched for only sanity
but found cigarettes instead. I was burning
I can't promise to be strong.
refrain.
The last few months have been horrible
like wind next to your voice
there isn’t any connection but lightning
the whole point is to do better
than the ones that don’t have control
the crowd put a border around you
someone will encourage you to just give up
You’re being buried under thousands
of other people talking.

It’s better safe than sorry. Say “Hello,
welcome” Ask them questions; don’t argue
You are not the best at this but try

Set up a stream. Watch it set.
someone may join, keep going.
even when things go wrong.
Source material:
http://codedgames.com/10-tips-for-starting-a-twitch-channel/
It's been 45 minutes since the last time I felt my own heart beat. People don't usually think about it while it's going but it always seemed too loud to me. Like rain drops falling on thin sheet roofs on sundays when you planned to go out. Maybe it's the quiet. The kind that never quite cut through, always drowned out by the monotonous drone of humps and beats in the chest but this time it did. This time I heard quiet. Only the low hum of wind passing through slit beneath the door remained. And you sat there, watching, like something was supposed to happen. You sat there, waiting, even when room went dark.
3 am Prose block
Affect how you feel. Think. Handle
eating, sleeping, working.At least
two weeks or two years

More than the “baby blues”
The exhaustion that accompany
Daily activities such as guilt
Characterized by winter, withdrawal
And sleep. Disorder is included.
Dysphoric everyday for at least two weeks
Slowly remembering early morning
Thoughts. Pains ease everyone
Who experience. But only few benefit
How long they last will vary.
erasure poem. This is the source:

https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/depression/index.shtml
Theres no more room for lingering words
What has been said is all that can be
Because the letters left with your finger tips
As they passed what's left of mine.
My ears stay numb save for the last exhausted goodbye.
When my mother dies

I'll get a tattoo
not in memory of her
but in memory of her
hatred for tattoos

           I don't know

what the tattoo will be
I'll decide when I get to the parlor
what it is isn't the point
the point is

          how I'll live

will be up to me.
I'm not sure how I'll feel
but I do know I'll have the freedom
to chose who I'll be


          without her.
I am nothing to you
I am not the first taste
of love left on your lips
and I wont be the last

I am the breath between
the verses of your life
and
I'll never be your song

I am the faded hues
of blue in your restless
eyes
I'll never be your rest

I'm the war in your chest
war waged against my heart
never
will i love you again

I am cold autumn winds
howling in space, so please
sleep
and I will be just fine
and eyes never sleep
Here is a letter
Because my hand moves
More smoothly and fluid
Than my tongue and my
Blood rolls down my finger-
Tips painting pages better
Than words roll past my lips
To speak poetry so...
One. I'm sorry i hurt you
You let me into the darkest
Parts of you and I, like a child
Holding a bucket of paint
In a white room, ruined you
I'm sorry.
Two. You forgave me.
Thank you.
You wiped clean every streak
Of pain i drew on your walls
and yes, i left some stains
But you are beautiful still.
You always have been.
Three. You love me, and I
Love you.
I do not believe love is magic
Love is patient as you are with
Me and it is quiet
Like i am with you and love
Love is human.
It lives and dies
And i hope it dies with me
Four. You will lose me
One last time. Before the end
I will hurt you and everyone
I hold dear. One last time.
Five. I will never tire of seeing
Your face. It will keep me sane
In our years apart.
And six. I will wait. Here where
Its calmer. I will wait for when
Your hair grays and teeth yellow
And when your memory shifts
Like sand and you forget us
I will wait. And when you finally
See me here
Seven. I will listen to every story
You had since i left and i will hear
About every single morning you
Spent with another and i will
Eight. I will tell you i love you. For
The first time since i left i will tell
You again, i love you. Fresh
Off my tongue like the first time
I uttered those three words
I love you.
wrote it all in a blur
Do not kiss lips that stutter, with lips
that shiver like they were frozen
because chances are she'll struggle with
words of comfort. Not for you. For you
she would squeeze out every sweet word
that might curl the edge of your own
lips

But kiss her not For you. Kiss her that it
might calm the quakes in her heart that
leaves its wake on her lips

Put your heart in her hands that the
beating of your heart gives her peace
that the heat warms her hands

Kiss her again, kiss her broken lips
that you might taste the muffled screams
and feel the sentences lost between the cracks
long *** title hahaha

old poems found on my laptop
i can't wait
to raise dogs with you
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