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 Jun 2014 nichole r
Bec
June 10th
 Jun 2014 nichole r
Bec
Yesterday, I gave the boy I love
a belated birthday present
from when he turned 24 on the 9th.
I found the perfect sized box,
a small grey thing.
My hands shook as I gave it away.
Inside would find him a single silver blade.
My blade.
I said to him, voice unsteady,
"This is my gift to you. This is my way of saying that I'm done."
He asked me if this was the blade.
It was.
I never knew that an object so light
could feel like the heaviest weight
lifted from my shoulders.

- R. H.
this is dedicated to my best friend. the only person who's ever cared enough to sit and talk to me about my self harming. his birthday was monday and i knew this would be the perfect gift.
... and my skin is begging to be touched,
by the shiny piece of metal,
that takes all the pain away.

(e.k.j.)
self harm tw.
 Jun 2014 nichole r
Zaynub
How outrageous it was
that the world refused to stop
Even for a moment
To give a person
one more reason
For their world to turn
have you ever talked someone out of suicide and afterwards found it strange went about their daily lives like they weren't struggling?
 Jun 2014 nichole r
Ryan Best
I wander through the mist,
the heavy air by sunlight kissed,
yet now too late to dissipate,
crushing, unrelenting weight,
maybe we can coexist.
The sodden earth beneath me lay
trodden normally on by day,
though now was overcast by gray,
the fog that did persist,
the bog would not decay,
I wished that I could stay.
But then ahead appeared a light,
to my dismay, far out of sight,
how could it be, as dark as night
I thought it was today.
A slimy serpent crossed my path,
and with a smile, hissed,
humbled by its vile wrath,
I wander through the mist.
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