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Hello, 2 am.
I've been seeking you again...
searching for a friend
to help me release pain that seems to never end.

Hello, 3 am.
Where do I begin?
Stuck in the same place I've always been
Committing my usual nightly sins.

Hello, 4 am.
Have you been missing me?
I could use your company
to keep me from falling asleep.

Hello, 5 am.*
Thanks for raising your sunny face.
It's been a long night,
but I'm glad I've outrun this chase.
"It's always darkest before the dawn"
I'm trying to remember those words when my nights seems the darkest, and I hope you all try the same.
**
The reason I have trouble keeping
My mind of of the future
And focusing on the present
Is because the last time
That I focused on the present
I almost died choking on pills and my own tears.
So I'm going to live three years in the future.
Leave me be.
Baruch could hear
Fay's father
bawling her out
along the balcony

his  Catholic platitudes
filling the air
he watched
from a safe distance

as Fay's fair hair
was caught
by sunlight
her father's

dark expression
like black clouds
on a summer's day
Pater Nosters

rose and fell
then he went indoor
and left her
standing there

the echo of his voice
staining the air
Baruch waved to her
and she descended

the stairs
to the balcony below
and along
where Baruch stood

what was that all about?
he asked
the nuns
reported me

meeting you
after school
the other day
she said

your daughter
is meeting the Jew
they'd said
he said

Fay looked back
behind her
as she touched
Baruch's arm

you're not to meet
the Jew boy
he was shouting
said he'd give me

a good hiding
if I saw you again
she said
looking up

at the balcony above
Baruch looked
at her fair hair
let loose

unfettered by bow
or ribbon
over her
blue dress

guess we mustn't
be seen then
he said softly
by Burton's window

in half hour
she said
and fled
along the balcony

and up the stairs
to her father's flat
Baruch watched
her go

the sway
of her dress
the hair in flow
then gone

from sight
just going out
he said
to his mother

at her ironing
in the front room
ok
she said

be careful
and so he
went down the stairs
and across the Square

down the *****
and along Rockingham Street
under the railway bridge
and along by

the back
of the cinema
and on to
the New Kent Road

down the subway
along the echoing passage
thinking of Fay
and her father

and his ways
he whistled
as he walked
his sound echoing

along the walls
a Hebrew tune
he'd heard
whistling loud

like a noisy bird
then up the steps
to the place to meet
by Burton's window

on the corner
of St George Road
traffic
racing by

waiting for Fay
her beauty
to greet
his Jewish eye.
BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
Like I'd blink
and nothing would be the same

Like I'd blink
and everything would be the same

Like I'd blink
and I don't know what I want

When I wake up
I hate  
When people
Make these rude
Comments like
"Anxiety isn't a big
deal. Just be
calm."
Or,
"Depression isn't real,
You just need to be
happy."
Or,
"Mental illness' are just
excuses for lazy
people."

Because these people
Don't understand
How terrible
Anxiety can be
And how it can leave you
Paralyzed.

Or how monstrous
Depression can be
And how
The demons will visit
Late into the
Night
Or even say hello
When the sun
Is still in the
Sky

Or how
Any mental illness
Can leave you
Shaking to the
Bone
Or crying
All the time
Or leaving you
Feeling like no one
Cares.

Because it's not just an
"Excuse."

-e.w.
You need to,
have the nightmare,
to,
appreciate the dream.
So long I've been without you, my dear.
How I've missed you,

Lend an ear,
I've yearned for your vampiristic images engraved on my skin
Blades each and everyone I named,
leaving signatures in soaked red sin.

We've suffered through one hell of a night,
he's planting ideas in my head
But you must know by now,
I don't cut because I wish I were dead.

Manic Depression, Bipolar, whatever
essentially, being the way I am
brings me to awful places sometimes
the numbness swallows me like quicksand.

Now my bed littered with disassembled razor heads
I dragged the tip across my left hip
silly me, I should have guessed
the scars there are just too thick,
not a single line appears before my eyes
not even the feeling of a pins *****.

Thank god, I'm ambidextrous
my right side will do the trick.

Porcelain, unscathed, soft, dewy flesh.
Oh, my.
This is temptation at her best.
My epidermis gives way as she sinks herself in half an inch
delicious, irresistible seductress.  

Please, take a gander
this art is some of my most true
For when I am done my ****** masterpiece
the crimson craters read "I Love You".
Last night was rough... Told you I loved you, now you can see for yourself. ****, and I was almost a year clean.
I hate it when they call me cute,
or pretty.
I am so much more.
So much ******* more.
I could destroy you.

I am an intelligent being,
capable of many things,
i carve my path in life;
I do not search for your approval.
I do not need your validation
of my outward appearance
to feel accepted.
I am aware of my own self,
and all that I possess,
so much more than 'cute'.

Save me from hearing
your stupid compliments
None of what you say to me,
has not been said
to every girl before.
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