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You look at her and see her beauty
I look at her and think what you think
I see her creative spark and the way she smiles.

Though, what she does not tell us
is that her mind
has ran out
of words
We have lost our window into her mind.
MYSTERIEEEEEEEEEE, I TOOK IT AND RAN
the mirrors image is telling me
to focus on health and priorities
to take care of myself and maybe eat
I have no clue what's wrong with me
Little hiccuppy bubbles in my stomach out my throat
My head swarming with ideas but quieted through synthetic happiness
I don't feel tired or dizzy (yet)
Can I really be ok?
starting new meds bc the last ones started sickening me
Some say anger and pain are cousins
Always traveling as one.
I’ve felt them both in my days,
Intertwined, solidified,
Almost premeditated,
Enjoying their journey.

But I prefer laughter with my pain.
True partners in survival
A touch of humor in the sorrow
Tempering, if even a shade twisted,
And each glad day
Can carry its drop of pain.
Anger is the natural response to pain and heartbreak, but humor is the healthy response allowing us to process the hurt and eventually move on.  This contrast of the two responses was inspired by the Robert Frost poem Fire & ice where he contrasts the two ways the world might end and how he feels about both avenues.  Both poems even start with the same first two words.
And I can count the number of stars,
before I'm able to count your scars on top of scars.
I could have your name on my arms,
and I could stop before anything harms,
I would forget your eyes are not stars,
and I will get stuck in the cycle of harm.
if you see my poems
that define your name,
but I don’t read them to you—
I’m not being rude,
I’m not ignoring you,
I love you so much
that you can read
each poem
right from my eyes.
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