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 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
Chloe
Like an old friend inviting you to come inside.
Familiar. Comforting.
It will grasp you in its arms and hold you close;
And when you're ready to leave, it wont let you go.
You will beg and plead to be happy,
and it will put up a fight.
It will make you think that the only way to escape it is to take your own life.
If you are lucky, you can break free;
and it will sit and watch you from afar.
Calling your name.
Welcoming you back into it's arms.
It will intrude your thoughts.
Make you think you are worthless.
That you're better off dead.
Just keep telling yourself that it's all in your head.
Keep moving. You will get far.
Depression is not who you are.
DISCLAIMER: This is only from my personal point of view and how my battle with depression has been. Even though I am trying to recover, the battle gets very difficult for me sometimes and I have to remind myself that I am not my mental illness. My mental illness does not define me.
 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
Cassian
Dad
 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
Cassian
Dad
You always point out every flaw dad
Always reminding me of everything I do wrong
You never cared how I felt dad
Always comparing me to someone else
I already know how stupid I am dad
Believe me I’ve been told thousands of times
That’s why I want to move away from you
You’ve made me feel alone dad
While still saying you’re my friend
I cared but you didn’t
That was my problem I accept responsibility for that
But the hardest part about letting go is that
I’ll never hear you running after me
Deep into the cold
 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
Raven
Me
 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
Raven
Me
No food
No sleep
I can't let these things reach out and speak sweet lies
I can't let food call my name
I can't let sleep drown my thoughts

I shouldn't eat
I can't sleep

This is me

I am broken girl
Who can't eat
In fear I weigh too much

I am a broken girl who can't sleep
For my thoughts and memories
Haunt me too much

I am a broken girl who answers 'how are you?'
With 'I'm alright' even when I'm not even close
Because I don't want you to worry
I don't want you to fret
Over a broken soul

I am a broken girl who says 'I have been busy'
when someone asks me why I haven't done something
I have been busy just not in the way they think
I have been busy trying not to give into hunger
I have been busy fixating on how I'm broken
I have been busy
But not in the way they think

I am a broken girl who has let her demons
creep up on her too much

I am a broken girl who has surrendered
her soul

I am a broken girl who dates so she feels
worth something because I don't when I'm alone

I date because I need to depend on someone
Because I am not dependable for anyone
Let alone myself

I date so I can hear someone say I love you
So I can hear someone call me beautiful
Cute
Amazing
And so many other things
Even if I don't believe it

I am a broken girl who has lost so many relationships
Five to death
And so many others just because they left
I was no longer good enough
No longer happy enough
No longer
PRETENDING

I am a broken girl who pretends
And when I stop people leave

Because I am too broken

I am too clingy

I am too demanding

I'm just not enough

Or I'm too much

THIS IS ME

But no one sees
Until I let them

And when I do they worry

But please don't worry
Because you didn't when you didn't know
So why worry now?

I'm still the same me
You just couldn't see all the flaws that my eyes do

You don't see the way I do

I see a girl who's eyes are too big

I see a girl who isn't thin enough

I see a girl who's hair doesn't suit her no matter what

I see a girl with too many scars

I see a girl
But I don't

For all I can see now is a walking flaw

And no one knows that
THIS IS ME
April/ 19/ 2018/ 10:19 AM
 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
Sophia
As we sit down to our dinners,
as we open our romance books,
people die.

We sip our water;
their guts spill open.
We study our notes;
their planes crash.

We live;
they die.
We breathe;
they suffocate.

We are testaments to chance,
to luck, to possibility.

We are not products of God.

We are blind goats trotting on our path
before we perish, suddenly,
and vanish into death.
 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
Toothache
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 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
CA Smith
Brick
        By
            Brick
A house is built
Hour
        By
            Hour
The house becomes a home
Day
        By
            Day
The home turns into memories
Year
        By
            Year
The memories turn into people
Century
        By
            Century
The people turn into stories
Story
        By
            Story
Stories turn into legends
Legend
        After
            Legend
History is changed
Piece
        By
            Piece
Lives are changed
Person
        By
            Person
Love is spread
One Love
        After
            Another
Bricks are purchased
That build houses
That turn into homes
That create memories
That turn into people
That turn into stories
That turn into legends
That change history
And it all started with
Just. One. Brick.
Sometimes it's tough when you are just laying bricks to see the end picture, but it makes a difference in the end! It can be so easy at times to feel like we aren't doing enough to help others or to grow ourselves, but one ripple affects the entire pond.
 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
Ciel Noir
What other kind              of creature could divide        
        Each different thing             into its different sides                
  With chaos versus             order, dark and light
The stark duality of         wrong and right
We even split the very        world in two
With human versus human,       we and you
But still no matter how much      we divide
Each thing has infinitely many      sides
 Aug 2019 Izzy Chandler
Mateah
What if every little thought
That lives inside your head
Instead of hiding away in there
Was spoken out, was said?

Would you be embarrassed?
Would you hate your mouth?
Would you rather be mute
Than let the truth come out?

What if every little thing
That people thought of you
Instead of being tucked away
Was heard, was listened to?

Would you be ashamed?
Would you cover your ears?
Would you rather be deaf
Than let the truth come near?

And what if every image
That passes through your thoughts
Was freed from its prison
To roam until it rots?

Would you be disgusted?
Would you look away?
Would you rather be blind
Than see your thoughts at play?
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