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Yuna-Lee May 3
Raise your head
Raise your hand
Raise your voice
Speak it.

Shut your mouth
Close your eyes
Find your fear
Seek it.

Claim the place
Within yourself
Don't feel ashamed
Claim it.

Take your rage
From these past days
Take it.
Feel it.
Scream it!
Anya Apr 14
An outlet. All I need is an outlet. To get it all out, out, out. So I can shout, shout, shout.
Shout that I’m worth it, not useless
That I can get something, anything done
Because I can
I can
I know I can
It’s just a matter of happening
Because I can
I can
I know I can
I’ve just got to do it
If I can write a story, if I can translate a piece, if I can draw or read the right things
But its all an if
And ifs dont make dreams come true
Ifs dont truly promise anything, anything at all
So here I am
Her I am
Feeling guilty and useless and-no no no
I don’t like the self pity and I disagree with it
I also hate how I keep insisting I am the problem
But I am
So what
So what so what so
I must do somethough though
Something to vent and let it out
So write
                   Or draw
Do something as long as its something or even nothing is fine
Please calm down
Can I though?
And outlet, I need an outlet,
And now we’ve come full circle
                 Back to poetry
Ntando Ndlela Mar 19
The feeling of dying,
freedom from crying,
Released from trying,
No more sorrows prying,
Sanity goes unchecked,
The eyes won't drown in tears like the sun does when it sets,
For death is violent and cursed,
Yet more peaceful than birth
Copyrighted ©️ written by Ntando Ndlela . All rights reserved.
em Mar 16
it's been two years
730 days
since you looked at me crying
on the verge of imploding
and threw your hands up in the air

you threw me up in the air
nobody left to catch me

so gravity took the reigns and i hit the ground
harder than i ever had before

but just like i've always done
i've continued to pick myself up
and i realized

i never needed you to save me from falling
because gravity is natural
and all i needed to get up
was myself
the hole in my heart isn't there anymore
Zygos Mar 4
The thought of death, self inflicted or natural,
can hit you with such dedication.

Like a forest eaten by the spark of a match,
it travels to your brain.

Until it's all you can breathe or hear
and see.
Until you beg to be alive and
understand what that means.
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