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Morose ExpressionIf tears could spill onto a page
These words would cry of pain.
If my heart could bleed onto paper
Its river would forever remain.
The tears may dry and be long forgot
And a heart's beat could swiftly pass
But the blood would still remain a clot
To bring back the memories past.
If words do convey of emotion
And stir things we've yet to feel
Then closer to you are these expressions
Than those friends once thought to be real
A stranger's poem can reap so much empathy
The news brings our hearts to the unknown
As we watch those about us without sympathy
And ignore the lives within our home.
If a picture is worth so many words
This picture painted in verbs should too
If the mind is like a machine
Then it should express this image to you
This collection of thoughts is no riddle
This is not a puzzle to be solved
The message is the depression will reign
If the problem remains unresolved.
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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