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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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![]() sitting in a corner with a cardboard box of trinkets that were once so precious and are now just a reminder of time. 3:45 am on a wednesday, your phone stares at you with a new message and suddenly there's a new rhythm to your heart and you wonder if people will blame you for wanting to make it stop. you see i thought i was doing better and maybe i am and this is all very emotionally driven but i am so scared right now and am hoping to create something beautiful out of it so i can say yes, i am better, look at me i finally match the sentiment i nurtured when i was 16, bellowing it as if i knew what it meant to be seen; i say take that broken heart and turn it into art. i forget there are so many pieces, how could i possibly hold them all? i am thinking hard and i am thinking deeply until my thoughts are just slabs of concrete being pushed against my mind because could you imagine something that just doesn’t fit anymore? there is a space in which i am no longer myself, sitting in a corner with a cardboard box of trinkets that were once so precious and are now just a reminder of time. 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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