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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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![]() Every nook glimpsed into now brings unfiltered glee. Every day, the walls inch closer, the smell of nothing carries all with it. Summer storms fold like raw wool. Seeds from cracks extend
green arms. Heads drop like rocks, our dreams sifts away with the fresh breeze from the AC. The mundane blows in the way an old tree bears fresh fruit. Birthed from the oak floorboard is a wooden spider. Life will still for him, but the windows and doors haven’t opened in ages since a safehouse is a spider’s trap, room with nothing to know. He won’t know that by day break, his web will be emptier than split eyes. 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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