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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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Would you be kind enough to think of me with mercy, mother? You’re like Jekyll and Hyde; loving you’s a wild ride. Plenty of times I find myself wishing for mercy, mother. Please, don’t hurt me, mother; I just need some mercy, mother. In your hands I’m unwell—you can call me Ishmael The way you desert me without any ounce of mercy, mother. Sometimes I think that I am almost given mercy, mother. I am Job with all my suffering; feel like Judas when it gets to me And I wonder: Am I giving you enough mercy, mother? I love you and I save for you my mercy, mother. Your hold on me’s titanic, causing me to sink in panic, Comments are closed.
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September 2023
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