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  Oct 2017 Kirsten Waskewich
nate k
i wish to kiss her wrists
just like the blades once did;
replace those scars with wisps
of hope life once forbid
(c) nate k. 2014
for lucy.
  Oct 2017 Kirsten Waskewich
Quiet
each of these scars on my skin (paper)
tell stories and my fingers touch them to hold my memories
because i remember opening up and i hated telling anyone
how i felt
and what it was like to see my insides pour out
and that i still wanted to do it,
i still wanted to decorate my arms, thighs, stomach, hips, heart
with little pink red purple red lines
i remember when he grabbed my arm and i cringed and flinched and ****** air in through my teeth and my chapped lips
and you knew
through all that blue fabric you could see
my scars

r.c.
ew this was bad
  Oct 2017 Kirsten Waskewich
SHE
It is as silent as night
It has no cue and it has no hue,

You have no clue of how to handle it;

It is not a choice, but it is the darkest part of emotions bottled up.

It comes as a wolf under sheep's wool, it comes at your brightest moments,

It comes undone and done at the same time that leaves you empty;

You are then left with darkness with no light, no hope and no end.
Lighter shades of my #depression
Kneeling at the foot of your cross
Before your presence I am at a loss
I seek your heart as you seek mine
I am bathed in your love divine
As I gaze upon your lovely face
I am drowned in the sea of your great grace
I look no further for you are here in this place
Lifting my heart and my hands to heaven so far above
I can feel the gentle power of your love
I'm asking please help me be quiet so I may hear and listen
Help me find the part of me that, so long, I've been missin'
Help me love you more and more
Remind me some things are worth fighting, even dying for
I am so weak Lord, I am so frail
But over sin and even death, still you prevail
Make my soul as a dove in flight
On the breeze of hope, the air of joy, and the winds of love alight
May your love be the song that I sing
And like a fire on the earth joy and peace I might bring
I yearn to know you more your heart your soul your mind
And I ask that I might know more in time
I don't think most people understand depression
                                                    ­                         suicide
                                                         ­                           PTSD

or the cycles that they come in as if they were tides.

People don't see past the smiles and laughter to the darkness within;
That you could be surrounded by love and feel okay
                                                            ­                            yet still be dead

That no matter how much comfort or peace you have it still gnaws away in the beck of your mind and chews a hole in your heart.

Cut wrists and suicide attempts aren't a cry for attention but for help;
does anybody out there hear me? see me? feel the way I feel? does anybody get that I am on the edge and losing it? why does nobody listen? why don't they take me serious? am I worth anything?

It disgusts me we execute the wounded and condemn their suffering;
Maybe they shouldn't feel the way they feel, but it's how they feel, so quit trying to tell them to stop feeling that way!
QUIT TRYING TO FIX THEM

Just be there... they need to know they aren't alone.
Not exactly poetic, but I wanted to get my point across as sharply as possible.
  Mar 2017 Kirsten Waskewich
Miranda
I've learned that Time is only the indication of one thing: Time.
It determines the seconds, minutes, hours as they pass
But it can't determine the rate at which a person falls.

First sight;

first smell;

first touch
,
Important factors in the drop.

First laugh;

first kiss;

first hug,

Time doesn't get to determine how quickly he learns to make your heart stop.

I've always had these rules because Time told me they were right.

"Can't eat until that time."

"Can't shower until this time."

Can't give my heart away to a man after 28 days
Because Time claims, 'Too soon.'

But Time doesn't see the details.
It can't stop it's ticker, pause,
and see the way his hands make your body quiver.
No,
time doesn't get to take a break
to feel the way his eyes gaze at you
as if he has never seen anything more beautiful.
And time can't feel the breath your lungs take
at the simple sight of him.

I've always had these rules because Time told me they were necessary.
And when he told me of the love he felt after 21 days,
I looked to time who yelled,
"Too soon, too soon, too soon, he can't possibly feel that now."
But then I look at him
and I can see the way he looks at me.
I get to feel the gentleness of his touch
and the intensity of his kiss.
Time can only pass.
And I've realized that time will pass,
whether you let yourself fall too soon
or if you allow the passing minutes
to inform you of when it's okay to start loving someone.
Time can only indicate the time.
Time counts the seconds.
But time does not get to tell me when it's okay to feel anymore.
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