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Staring down at the rope,
Rethinking every life choice.
Wishing to be dead,
Messages are already sent.
There is no going back.
I get the rope tie it around my neck,
I can't hang it anywhere.
I tighten the rope,
Vision went blurry.
I can't hear anything,
Ringing in my ears is too loud.
Its been 10 minutes,
I didn't go unconscious.
I just gave up.
Woke up with my face blue.
Its kinda bad
My wings fracture as you demand what I cannot give,
Images of my form,
though I've whispered no.
In this strange dance, I despise the shell and cherish the soul within—
Yet you remain blind to its glow.

Your eyes seek only bare skin; they dismiss my silent plea.
Sun you bring death
Yet I swim and I sweat
In the rays of you;
Bright yellow sun.

-Melanie Munoz
It didn't matter who he was, I was there for him.
  Jan 2 Kaiden Lewis
VinceV
I
No
Longer
Long
  Jan 2 Kaiden Lewis
dead poet
a ;
a .
a ?
some - – —
an ‘
some ( )
a ,
an _
a few ‘ ’ " "
the rare *
the gaping ...
some [ ]
some { }
some !!!
and a healthy :

there you go,
you can write a poem now.
she was 12,
of course no one believed her.
she was 12,
of course she was blamed.
she was 12,
of course she thinks its her fault.
she was 12,
of course they laughed at her when she opened up about it.
she was 12,
of course she thought it was love.
she was 12,
of course it was the clothes.
she was 12,
of course she couldn't press charges.
she was 12,
of course it still haunts her.
she was 12,
of course she's disgusted by her self.
she was 12,
of course she wasn't taken seriously.
she was 12.
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