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Dakota J Dawson Dec 2020
I drown
Intoxicated
Inside my sea

Crushing waves
Tsunami triggered
Withered morning
Grisha S Nov 2020
A girl not born but made with trauma

Her story so bizarre, it seems like a drama

But it's not

Her childhood, so terrible it was

None could face that amount of loss



The girl's mother was in her grave

Died at the hands of her father who treated the girl as a slave

He beat her delicate face every day

But no words ever came out of her mouth

For there was nothing she could say



Once she decided to throw herself into the river

So she could drown and leave this life forever

But a voice inside told her no

The voice wasn't hers

But it was calming and slow



Days after, she discovered more voices

One different from the other

But they all told her one thing-

Things would get better



One day, her father beat her again,

But the voice from the river now came out

That voice became a person and began to shout



The girl, proud of her voice

Took some clothes and a horse, and ran away

Because she would go anywhere but stay



She did not know where she was going to go

But she wanted to get away from that vile man she called father

She didn't care cause wherever she would be

Her voices would always be with her.



-Grisha. S
Traveler Aug 2020
We all have a shadow side
I’ve seen yours
Now have a look at mine
Opposite of my persona‘s fear
I’m not afraid of being weird
We are all perfect beyond our pride
Made of sub atomic light
Still
How can one integrate
A stability lackImg wealth?
A fear the shadow
Cannot support the self
Who can embrace
Love without a wall
I’m already on the ground
So I’m not afraid to fall

Do you believe that you are above
Looking down from your love
Well that’s a projection
Of your greatest fear
So take the focus off
The broken mirror
........
Traveler Tim
Coleman M Lowe Jul 2020
Into this world world will come,
A few,
Very precious souls.
Who  will not fit
Into your cookie cutter molds.
Yet,
To your ideals,
You try to make them hold.
And never realize,
They may be,
The purest form of gold
I wrote this when I watched the staff in a "mental" ward openly laugh and make fun of someone who was challenged when they attempted to make him the same as almost everyone else.I don't conform either and was quite upset by their actions and treatment of this individual. I simply say that they are "differently enabled" than others and  staff would have used resourse myuch better to find what the person was good at instead of forcing them to comply and making fun.
Iz Dec 2019
I remember the supervised showers
The crushed ice
The cries at night
The feeling of losing control
The idea that earbuds with the right twist and ties could make me die
The sewn on pillowcases
The weapon in scissors, mirrors, handles, sheets, bedposts, bags, shampoo, straps, glass, pens
The misdemeanor
The boy who’s anorexia was his slow suicide
The girl with two siblings that killed themselves
How everyone wanted to **** themself
The 7-year-old that only cried
The lime green hallways that haunt my mind
Found this poem from a year ago
Nemis Oct 2019
As the night grows darker,
Deeper go into the abyss I.
Circling thoughts of past
Threads of the future unknown
Fused with the time of present
Deeper go into the abyss I.

My eyes sees the journey through,
Oh how my body it grows.
Gliding over the blankness I go,
The soul reaching out to cosmos.

Scatters my body to particles infinite,
As I cover the distance in the dark of night.
Chasing the dark with the speed of light,
Deeper go into the abyss I.
I wrote this while traveling via train and looking outside in the dark and reading cosmos.
Calliope Dec 2018
The beautiful girl with the raven hair.
A sleeve of pain she doesn’t remember.
A past of stolen innocence and growing up too fast.
A life of raising her sisters but losing her daughter, because money doesn’t grow on trees and 22 weeks was all the time she could get.
A heart of gold but a facade of steel, too scared to let anyone back in.
A soul that rages of fire, power, and more grit than anyone I’ve met.
A future that my heart wishes for her more than she will ever know.
She will get everything she desires.
Her sobriety will be the medal around her neck.
Her life will be the trophy she won back.
And her beautiful children will be the emblem of strength that let them be born.
I just got back from a psychiatric care unit and the people I’ve met have changed me forever.
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