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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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![]() i. pull my eyelashes up, tilt my head to the rising sun and the silhouette of every one of my dreams, dissolving into mist and as i turn to you, using all of the energy left in my broken bones tell me that it never mattered anyways, that i never mattered and everything i thought i was was built upon a fault line you're an earthquake and i'm falling, head-first into the ground, with my eyes still glued to the stars that mock me, remind me that this is all inside my mind, and i still can't see through the darkness wrapping me tighter and tighter, threading its cold fingers through my skin--i simply watch as i'm turned inside out, all my empathy lying empty on the floor. is this what i asked for? ii.
kicking my way through this wild ocean, and i don't dare look back as i come up for breath as waves of doubt crash around me and the sky is as black as the ground i can't seem to find rain on my face mixing with the fear of losing all that i have left my only lifeline is about to snap, and i'm falling backwards sinking through the wavering hands that reach out only to push me farther and farther into this spiraling abyss, and i'm being dragged down by the weight of the heart i used to call mine, before i lost control i taste the blood pooling under my tongue, staining my teeth red, streaking through the air i can't seem to pull into my lungs, leaving me a shell of what i could have been. is this what i asked for? iii. shuddering, shivering, against the wicked cold, fighting against the winds that threaten to whisk me into the sky's dark, hungry maw desperation is the only thing keeping my feet glued to the ground, but i can't hold on forever, and i feel my grip slipping, one limb at a time, as my skin flies away and i watch my body dissolve and suddenly i am falling, or i am flying, and i've left the world behind but no light surrounds my soul, and there's no relief or warmth, instead i am being pulled apart, one cell at a time, and there's nothing left of me to feel instead i watch it all fall apart with a blank face, taught not to care as my world deteriorates into a single pixel, a splotch of color in a gray-scale world and nothing remains except for your voice, telling me that everything's not fine haunted melodies that i can never seem to outrun. is this what i asked for? iv. and my breath catches in my chest, my pulse jump-starts again, and my eyes focus on everything and nothing at all. the sweat above my lip tells me that there's something to forget but i can't seem to quite remember what. i roll onto my back and feel my lungs rise and fall, like syncopated waves--and an image flashes against the back of my eyes, but as soon as i try to find it again, it is gone. so i sigh and close my eyes, succumbing to the pull, and again i'm falling through a familiar darkness, cold seeping under my fingernails and between my outstretched fingers. your voice echoes all around me, against the illusion of being awake. this isn't what i asked for. Comments are closed.
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November 2023
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