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You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.
I wrote a poem,
just so I could set it on fire.
I hope my words burn
in your soul
and set your mind a light.
Remember me,
when the embers go out.
Can you tell me that there aren't any monsters in this world?
For I see reflected in others's eyes,
The end of time.
Time
Is
Out.
For us to live,
We must learn to survive.
These monsters will never leave us in peace, for we are them.
I tried...
 Nov 2014 WanderLust
Ky Blackstar
I wish I could hold your hand without my palms sweating or my fingers shaking
I wish I could look you in the eye without having my insides ache with the feeling of man eating butterflies
I wish I could think about you without my head spinning
I wish I could read your sweet messages without crying because my anxiety does not deserve love, and sometimes anxiety is all I am.
 Nov 2014 WanderLust
Sarah K
Those who go to bed early
Look forward to tomorrow
Those who dread the coming day
Stay up until they can see the sun
Just to make sure they'll make it.
 Nov 2014 WanderLust
Madison Lee
From the time I could walk,
Daddy was never there for the little talks.
Twelve years young,
And I'm drowning in tears,
Never imagining those would be the worst years.
I can remember feeling so hopeless,
Falling down such a slippery *****.
Depression was my label,
With my anxiety growing unstable.
Fourteen years young,
And I'm beginning to see blood.
Coming out of my arms like a flood.
I've grown to love the color of red,
Did you know that seeing too much would mean I was dead?
Sixteen years young,
And I'm killing my lungs.
Everything is starting to get better,
I've become a goal setter.
I'm grateful for everything I went through,
Because now, life means so much more.
I may not be completely healed,
But I'm better off where I am now then I was before.
 Nov 2014 WanderLust
Chloe
My wrists still burn from 7th grade
when the entire school laughed at me
for having *** with my brother.
But they didn't know how ******* sick it really was
and they didn't know I didn't want it.
So I ran out of class and sat on the bathroom floor,
carving my skin with my favorite earrings
that started off silver but slowly turned red.
I told you I don't wear earrings anymore.

My throat still hurts from the time I tried to drink drain cleaner
but it was so bitter i spit it all out and it ran down my chin.
So I slept all day and all night
because I cried so hard I couldn't keep my eyes open.
I wonder if that's what you taste on my lips,
Salty tears and bitter chemicals.
Is that why we never kiss?

My neck is still bruised from when I was 11 years old
and hung a jump rope from the ceiling in my basement
and tied it in a knot around my neck.
But soon as I jumped off the chair I ******* fell to the floor
with nothing but a rope burn beneath my chin.
It wasn't the feeling I wanted and I cried so long and violently,
I thought my head would explode.
Does it make sense that I don’t like heights?
Maybe that's why I'm afraid of bridges.

My lungs are still full of water from 2011
when I tried to drown myself in the bathtub.
But the water wasn't very deep and it was hard to stay under.
I could feel myself getting dizzy as my head popped back to surface.
So I stood up,
shampoo still in my hair,
and I washed everything down the drain besides my self.
When I told you I don't know how to swim,
I actually meant I'm too afraid to learn.

My ******* still hurt from the boy who thought getting me drunk would make me take my clothes off.
And I hate to say it but it ******* worked.
But what he didn't realize is that at 15 years old,
I would have gotten naked for him anyways.
I would have touched him even if
I wasn't influenced to pour
shots down my throat and coke up my nose.
I didn't have a chance to say yes or no.
I just wanted to have fun and try to forget everything I was wanting
to **** myself for.
But I ended up with a heartless human being on top of me calling me a *****
while I lie motionless about to *****.
When I got home,
my chest was black and blue but I didn't cry this time
because by then I was too ******* numb to care about anything.
I told you I don't like to drink.
I told you my body aches.

My hands are still sore from when I got sent to rehab and met a boy who liked it when I touched him.
He only came out of his room when the nurses helped him walk.
His face was so white you could almost see through him and he only spoke when he wanted to feel me.
Every night at dinner I would put my hands down his pants underneath the table,
until he stopped eating dinner with us.
He was addicted to something bad and he just kind of stopped waking up.
I got sent home but I don't think he ever left.
I waited months for that boy to call.
But he never did.
Every one disappeared
*And now I'm doing the same to you.
 Nov 2014 WanderLust
Chloe
My wrists still hurt from
the day you grabbed my arm
and my cuts opened up
underneath my sleeve.
I pulled away
but I didn't mention the pain
because how do you tell someone
who has never shed a drop of blood in
their life,
that every part of you is bleeding.
He smirked at me, surprised by my sass, even in death.
Death wore a suit, looking every bit the striking businessman.
He held a heavy tome as he read my name, telling me it was not my time.
Leaning in the crook of his arm was the sharp scythe, glimmering faintly.
Death touched my face with his cold hands, his fingers brushing across my delicate lips, and under my chin.
He made me look into his eyes and spoke gently,
"It is not your time. I will see you again, but today is not the day."
A tear ran down my cheek and his icy fingers wiped it away.
Death leaned forward, his presence bringing cold and dread.
With his frosty lips, he tenderly kissed my forehead.
He kissed down my face, leaving a chill with each touch.
Death's mouth met mine as he breathed life back into me.
Everything went dark, and I sat up with a start, alone in my cold bed.
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