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 Oct 2014 Sophia
Shannon Wright
sometimes I wish I was blind because then I could never see what other people thought of me and all I would hear is the lies they feed my through their mouths. I wish I was blind so that I wouldn’t have go see their hesitant faces show unspoken word about how they really feel. I wish I was bind because I would see the real beauty in people: the invisible kind. I wish I was blind so that I would take more time to listen. I wish I was blind so that I could feel rather and see if I look good. I wish I was blind so that I wouldn’t have to compare myself to everyone else. I wish I was blind because I could match the darkness inside my head with my sight.
My oceans froze over
All my skies grew dark
But Your life sparked a fire
And Your hope warmed my heart.
 Jul 2014 Sophia
Hayleigh
Untitled
 Jul 2014 Sophia
Hayleigh
When every bone in your body aches to be relieved through death, When it hurts to breathe, when the thoughts and ideations of self harm cut you deeper than any blade could and the thought of suicide is one of hope not fear, when the burdens you bear are so heavy you feel them weigh every inch of you down, when you wake up with regret that you made it through another night, when you feel like you're drowning in the millions of tears that have parted from your eyes, and yet you march on anyway, you throw away the pills, you put down the blade, you pick up that fork of food and you eat, you don't turn to a bottle or drugs, you dig deep within yourself for the fight you swore you had run out of months ago and you carry on with life, that is the rawest and most admirable strength there is.
RWB
I heard you were blue:
When I red the white on your face
I knew it was true
 Jul 2014 Sophia
Dhirana
shattered glass in midnight bonfires
I see strips of flames dissipate into the night
and it never burned my
eyes.
I held blue flames in my hands and burned
my fingerprints to form
jagged lines that melted ice like a
scorching pair of lips.
with a sigh, they turned to walk away
setting fire to the roadside.
The flames morphed into scattered coins
incinerated by the sorrow they carried like an anchor
that sunk,
pulling them down to the sea bed to
sleep with the ocean at midnight
where the flames drowned,
drowned,
drowned…

and the smoke turned into words without a sound.
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