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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 we rose: Thorns and all, We rose, Roots quenching for nutrients in the bloodied soil, Littered with disordered decomposition of our flowery carnage, We had no choice, So we rose, To honor our sunflowers,
And daffodils who spent their last hours, Of sunlight on ventilators, Gasping for air, We rose to honor those who screamed for their mamas, Cause they couldn't breathe, We rose to find sunlight, We rose to get as close as possible to our flowers in heaven, Vines entangled, Reaching out, Through the skies, The smell is freeing, Don't you think? The smell of new life, Breaking free from the saran-wrap stratosphere we've been collectively suffocating in. Gasp. Go ahead. Gasp. Breathe so deep, your chest knows it's alive. Because you are. We are. Breathe so deep, your heart recognizes her resilience. Because you are. We are. Let's breathe in unison and relief that we've made it this far. We rose. Come join us in the garden; When you know you're lucky to be alive, It shows. So. Come on. Celebrate. We rose. 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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