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I used to pray that I’d never be loved by
anyone I couldn’t love back,
but then I remembered how many mountains
I grew strong enough to climb when
you didn’t love me back
and I realized that
there’s no use in praying for
the absence of pain
because it will always find you
whether it be through sunburn or aching silence
and broken bones grow back stronger
so I won’t pray you’ll never get hurt
I’ll pray you clean out the cuts on your
elbows and learn to not pick at
the scabs on your knees
and that you’ll stand up more times
than the wind knocks you down
And that you’ll find ways to appreciate
the circles beneath your eyes, but
still hold onto the hope that one day
you will count your scars and smile because
you are proud of how far you’ve come
and how much you’ve grown, and
you’re not just surviving, you are alive.
written on 2/24/14
he’s telling me about the girl at school
he can’t get out of his head,
and how he feels like
it’s always this chain of
"i don’t want all these people that want me,"
(i winced)
“and the one person i want doesn’t want me
in the same way.”
(i inhaled sharply)

i told him he’s overthinking it,
and when he asked, “how do you not?”
(i forgot to breathe)

my eyes got watery, but i blinked quickly
before they could settle
(i exhaled)

and replied,
“i'll let you know.”
i want to dye
my hair and tattoo my skin
so that the changes
you’ve been noticing in me
look like they’re
on purpose.
You were everywhere.
You were in the books I read,
You were in the songs I listened,
You were in the poems I wrote,
And you were even with me—
in my head, in my veins.
Everywhere I go,
You’re with me.
It seems impossible,
To even breathe without you.
I need you like I need cigarette at 3am.
I need you like I need coffee at 5am.
And it’s like my heart bleeding,
Knowing you don’t need me.
I'm all empty,
left bleeding by you,
who swore to love me.
But for you, I’ll bleed myself *dry.
i know your eyes sparkle
when you look at me
but the lights in my eyes
died before the light got to you
It took her
17 years to
realize that
monsters don’t
live under her bed,
but instead
within her.

It took over
Her mind.
It took over
Her body.
It was destroying her.

The pain of getting out
Of bed each and everyday
Was pushing intolerable.
It felt like she was
Shackled to the bedpost.

She felt heavy,
As if boulders were
Toppling over her.

They were the voices
In her head.
She fought the urge
To take the blade,
But eventually gave in.

She was screaming for help,
But her desperate screams were
Muffled and masked by
A forced smile and an ‘im fine’.
She was struggling to keep
Her head above the water,
But everyone was blind.

She fought the monsters,
Fought and fought,

Gave up.
It is a good death that I die today.
The sun is speaking with warmth to clouds who
drift along to hear the tales.
The waters flow with guidance from the wind
and the trees sigh with delight.
You are standing before me and the silence is overwhelming.
I stare into your eyes and you smile softly
vanishing with the leaves.
It is a good death that I die today.
My footfalls leave no trace and the faces pass me by.
So full of wonder, full of life,
but hard to see through eyes that strain,
minute by minute,
adjusting to a world so bright,
it seems so dark...
It is a good death that I die today,
to come from a shout in the everlasting black mystery,
a lonely heartbeat surviving in the cold;
a place where stars fall and children whisper dreams...
 Nov 2013 Sonja Milekovic
"He was a skyscraper
she was a plane
she could surround him for hours
and nothing would change
until she began to fall
then he'd stand and stare
but only behind the glass
because that's how much he cared."
Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.
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