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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 saw it there. Perfect on the sidewalk, bloodless veins over paper skin. Red fade to yellow fade to green. Jagged teeth
tickle soft across my fingertips, nostrils prickling with cold air and sugared resin. I twirl the leaf’s stem between my fingers, the sweet gum tree hangs above my head. How kind of him, how trusting, to leave his son with me. I think of my brother, when he was still small enough to say ‘I love you’ and mean it, stumbling with a lash in his eye, water brimming. I kneeled and took his head in my hands. “Look up and to the side.” And he did. Count to five, swipe, release, relief. No ‘thank yous’ needed, never needed. Names dug in wet cement, discarded training wheels, learning not to listen to everything dad says. I hope we will not be the same. “If you blow on it you can make a wish.” And he did. Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
September 2023
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