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#outreach
PSA: this is not a good poem, this is an explosion. pacing internal dialogue echoing within my fatty brain, overweight from months of stagnant vegetation. one repetitive sentence feebly attempts to remove the attackers “go away go away go away go away” running linoleum floors squeaking as my slippered feet find their grip, praying that these feet don’t lead me to a kitchen full of knives, hungry to meet the stretch marks striping my newly obese thighs. i’d rather have scars than these purple proofs of my inadequacy the familiar hair-band meets my forearm for the first time in an age, my vegetated brain slowly recognises this pattern from once before and the skills from months of therapy begin to kick in breathe in breathe out falling wondering how on earth i will live for seven more weeks desperate to make my voice heard but stumbling into silence as my head slams the wall and bounces off the floor leaving me stuck in my own harrowing mind, one that is far too tired, lonely and ill to fight for much longer.
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Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
a cry for help upon deaf ears.
Garden afternooning People all around Music in the air We're chilling on the ground Popcorn and coffee Guitars and Ukes Picnic blankets People sitting in twos The sounds are warm Resonant and rich Filling the air for the sake of the poor Hearts gathered together From all walks of life To find out how we can give more New connections made Awesome talent shared A good cause funded Now we're more aware So the garden was filled Our hearts were grown God's Kingdom was furthered So little hearts will know More love of the Father, The Author of this show
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Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
Garden Sounds
Everything shattered...                        ...But she refused to let herself fall apart... ...When she awoke her world was broken as before...                     ...Believing the future and all it held, she wanted to be the one...             ...Stuck in the middle, she felt like she was never enough...        *...All the whispers weighed her heart heavy...*                           ...The longer she knew someone the less they'd know her...               ...Shutting herself from her friends and the world...     ...She doesn't have anywhere left to turn... ...Would you believe I am that girl?...
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Hyperaesthesia
The devil strikes form we host the match lines are drawn home ground advantage.
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Jun 14, 2022
Jun 14, 2022 at 10:33 AM UTC
Gasoline pricehikes? Senryu