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IPM 17h
Into the fray
I make the same mistakes
I used to make back in the day
the suffering keeps me awake
but salt is the only way
I know of
that cures my pain
YH 1d
I realize I am too compassionate;
I feel everything at a 100% rate,
and I loathe it so much.
Why do they come on so strong all the time;
it mentally drains me.

I am destined to die early;
I can't see myself live past my mid-thirties.
I learn how to accept death as it is,
and I am slowly learning how to let go.

I want to cry, I want to scream;
I want to voice out this indecipherable torment inside of me.
But no one will understand,
and no one will know;
I can't take off this mask of mine.

It is what I yearn,
yet I want to scream the truth out to the world;
my alternating flow of thoughts,
my constant battle.
It goes down with me to the grave.

My happiness is an illusion;
I have a second mind that takes over,
and blocks away all of the hopelessness.
It brings forth a temporary elation,
a nonchalance,
a pretentious ease.

Is this better?
Does it make me better?
Or does it delude me to the point where I become more destructive
and cause more harm than cure?

Why does my mind run so much.
Why does this version of me exist.

Because I am born empathetic.
Because I am human.
Because I hold a good understanding of myself,
and a greater awareness of how I am.

But not behind in the how it came to be.

No one holds the answer, and I am forever left with questioning all these endless why's and how's.

Everything else is left unanswered

perhaps until the day I die.

— Y.H.

the end of the tunnel,
gentle fervor.
my mind drifts sometimes
as though it's sinking deep into the abyss of seawater
sometimes i'm afraid it sinks so far
that it never comes back up to the surface again
that i would never see the light another time

but maybe there never was a light
and i've been sinking all this while
further, and further
and the sight of light was only in a dream

(c) Y.H.
Lusy 1d
Why happiness is create?
Because to feel the suffering
Why suffering is create?
Because to feel the happiness
That's why
A life was created
Because to teach us
What's the meaning of life
And understand the learning of life
Climax of happiness is suffering, and climax of suffering is happiness.
bay 2d
im not homecoming queen.
people take one look at me and think
“wow, she must have it made.  
just a pretty face,
typical mean girl.
She must be a Homecoming Queen.”
but i’m not.
i’m not even on the court.
i’m not rude or entitled
i don’t have crowds of people
following me around
and my looks get me nowhere.
i’m just here,
suffering as much as the next person.
i probably won’t even go to homecoming...
Perceptions of identity in internal conflict grow by the shared fear of being disproven.

Resistance, in the form of denial, turns into desperation and anxiety before it reluctantly ceases.

But sometimes it happens during the mental battle and human hardship that the most pressured of these perceptions fires a distress-rocket out of its protective trench.

Something instinctual in man appeals, and if need be demand an opportunity to express what has happened.

The signal often depicts itself in ways of expression already chosen at birth, without regard to the self-image's rigorous, albeit nervous defense.

And so the poet dictates,

the artist sings,

regardless if one never dared before, one dares now.

The feelings are preserved long after the battle has passed,  
thoughts fade out of memory,
lost in one of the eternally sealed archives of the organism.

Yet the fragment that made it out is a beautiful remnant, an undeniable testimony that a creation of the soul can leave man.
This text is about things created during hardship.
Its about a thought i had, that maybe the things we create are the expression of our internal processes, needing to be heard by someone.
I’ve constructed my own heaven,
One that I deserve.
Where the glitter’s broken glass
And all the angels; pervs.
Where euphoria is sold
For money by the gram.
Find me no more there on Earth
For this is where I am.

I’ve constructed my own heaven,
Wish that you could see
How much better this is than
The hell they made for me.
Where the demons hang by neckties
Grimacing in mirth.
Where the price of happiness
Is more than what it’s worth.

I’ve constructed my own heaven
With its golden gates,
Where a hedonistic orgy
Of the senses waits.
Where the smokey clouds are dense
With fumes that stick to clothes.
I’ve constructed my own heaven
Of sorts, I suppose.
A poem on addiction.
I don’t think of you that often
The eyes and faces all turned themselves towards me
Love no one
However, we may suffer
It’s funny, if you do, you start missing everybody
And I’m afraid
My failures: I had not forgotten them
To have survived so long
It happened, I stopped loving him.
Always more than you deserve
You cut your teeth
Against all those brick walls
All sin here is absolved
Into the lack of resolve
Through the surface of my skin
Tales of caution in reverse
All confession
Has been rehearsed
Rehearsed againt the wind
Renhui 5d
I am Dawn
I carry the promise of your day
When you get up from your bed
And walk upright
Into the shimmering glow
To work, love, fight, and play

I am Dawn
I survived a deadly storm
Where seafarers were lost at sea
And seagulls wailed
Through a darkly night
From the heart of darkness
I was born

When you come home at night
I wait for you
For another day
Of bloom!
Hello Mom
I miss you
you were so young
I was a terrible kid
I am sorry

Hello Dad
I miss you
You were so young
You were a terrible dad
I forgive you

Hello Uncle Jim
I Miss you
You were so young
You taught me honor and respect
Thank you for your service

Hello Cousin Tony
I miss you
You were so young
I can't hold a candle to you
Your funeral was impressive

Hello Nana
I miss you
Your heart was pure gold
You didn't deserve to suffer
You taught me more than I could ever repay

Hello Grandpa Tony
I miss you
You showed me how to fix things
Thank you for your service
Nana is with you now

Hello Grandma Pat
I miss you
You have a loving family
Your spaghetti was legendary!
Your son suffers no more

Hello Grandpa John
I miss you
You taught me how to play poker
Thank you for your service
Your loving wife is with you now

Hello Aunt Kathy
I miss you
You were always kind to me
Your jokes made me laugh
I see your face everywhere

Hello Grandpa Kuntner
I never met you
I heard terrible things
If it weren't for you, i'd never been born
For that, I thank you

Hello Grandpa Leon
I never met you
I heard nice things
I am a proud to be a stubborn polack
For that, I thank you
I cried while writing this
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