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a bedtime story*

In the distance stands a lighthouse
seeing all with cyclops eye
once a beacon, now a hollow,
dead in misted moonlit sky.

Proudly once she ruled the headland,
warning all of crag and shoal
trusted friend to salt scoured sea dogs,
smugglers caught within her glow.

Beauty lived as Keepers mistress
'till one day her love did bloom
walking clifftops with her lover
brought her ending, far too soon.

Bloodied, torn by cliff face ragged
screaming for the life she craved,
Beauty held her rounded belly
As fury deep hit waters grave.

Beauty stands alone in darkness
there above the tempest sea
bloated souls of those who perished
now her only company.

 When the moon is high above us
wrapped in rags and witching stare
Beauty stands atop the catwalk
weeds 'a winding through her hair.
My Grandad always told the best bedtime stories about his hometown, he used to love to scare us before bed then smile as he turned out the lights.
Excitement.
    2. Bubbly belly.
    3. Oh, this guy is nice.
    4. Is this place clean?
    5. This chair is cozy.
    6. New needle. Yes.
    7. That doesn't really hurt.
    8. Yay!
    9. Oh. I am about to pass out.
    10. Cold compress. Water.
    11. Lie back.
    12. Good. And again. This doesn't  
    really hurt.
   13. Cold compress. Water. Lie            
     back. Chew gum.
   14. Good. And again.
   15. Done!
   16. Bandage.
   17. Pay with tip.
   18. Put on sunglasses.
   19. Eat a waffle.
20.  Peek. It's still there.
When every bone in your body aches to be relieved through death, When it hurts to breathe, when the thoughts and ideations of self harm cut you deeper than any blade could and the thought of suicide is one of hope not fear, when the burdens you bear are so heavy you feel them weigh every inch of you down, when you wake up with regret that you made it through another night, when you feel like you're drowning in the millions of tears that have parted from your eyes, and yet you march on anyway, you throw away the pills, you put down the blade, you pick up that fork of food and you eat, you don't turn to a bottle or drugs, you dig deep within yourself for the fight you swore you had run out of months ago and you carry on with life, that is the rawest and most admirable strength there is.
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