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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() My love is beginning to fade, leaving only traces of me lightly glistening. Pieces of me are already scattered, broken. I have fallen with the tiny orange leaves and been left desolate, grasping the wet marks on the ground created from abandoned footsteps and trapped sewage water. Long forgotten, invisible. The wind breathes against my body-
causing gusts of tension within me. I am reminded of my mother’s anguished screams towards a child that asked her body to stretch its seams. Demanded she gives her body over to it- losing all its beauty and independence. My mother is left with her soft pale skin abandoned, damaged, and stained. A child who broke the bond she once shared with the man who tasted of ebony. She still weeps for what once was. The moments of time have dissolved, she can only remember through the marks that time rippled over her body. I wish for a beam of light to shine down on me. To return me to the color that was always mine but has degraded so much over time that you can only see a shadow of me. I truly only ask for a few things: warmth and beauty. And love. Please give me love. Oh, and maybe sleep. Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
October 2023
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