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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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![]() and at that moment, the beasts of His making clawed and stumbled out of the shadows pools of darkness bleeding into every inch of their eyes mouths upturned in a gruesome snarl, drops of saliva falling staggeredly from cracked lips tails dragging limply behind them, leaving trenches in the dampened soil sharpened talons bit into the earth, like they had a personal vendetta against mother nature or the earth upon which they stood or me so as the moon dripped its iron blood
i focused on the twinkling stars, on the steady rhythm of their light i focused on the sound of cicadas, the humid air kissing my skin, the scent of pine needles above me i focused on everything except the things for if I were to die, i would prefer to die surrounded by beauty wasn’t it such a strange thing, when their talons released their lethal clutch on the earth, when they sat so patiently upon the dewy grass, when blackened eyes mirrored my russet own, when a single word fell from their daggered jaws. wasn’t it strange when they looked at me and called me Sister Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
May 2023
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