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 Feb 2019 Yasin
jrae
Untitled
 Feb 2019 Yasin
jrae
I am quiet, still
A body of water at rest
Waiting to be disturbed
 Jan 2019 Yasin
Sara
I see tension in the air,
red and green clouds everywhere.
The same old, tried-and-worn affair.
I walk. I can't afford to care.
read it and walk
 Jan 2019 Yasin
Taylor - Sweety
Do you know if someone discovered a cure for broken heart?

A medicine to erase your memories from my brain
An analgesic for numbing my heart pain..
Atleast a sedative that can make me forget your name..
so that my tears dont have to drain..
and I can be free from your hain..
 Dec 2018 Yasin
Cné
Her shadow
Washed in sin, covered in blood
Oh, what a sad little dove
Festering secrets, slathered in shame
Purity poisoned, life to blame
Born unwanted, a mother denies
Behind the shadow of our eyes

His shadow
In dynamics
Of dysfunctional dismay
Lost in secret family shame
These emotional contacts delay
That we carry 'til the end of our days
Cast in stone, in foundation of lies
All these shadows behind our eyes

Her pain
Painful memories of long ago
Though, I know, I must let go
Triggers upon the aching scars
That burns within an injured heart
Full of fear, in the wake of lies
All behind the shadow of our eyes

His pain
An unending twitch
The fast fading smile
The ever bleeding heart
Of a broken lost child
Carrying stones up endless hills
All these issue we're forced to feel
And stuff them down, way down inside
Behind the shadow of our eyes

Her darkness
Hidden is a blacken variant
Attached with unbreakable sealant
Of life's destiny, from the gods
Concealed amid, evolved facades
A mind, compartmentalized
Behind the shadow of our eyes

His darkness**
Desensitized to life, empathy left poor
Bottomless abyss where my spirit now soars
Love is a dream in my abandoned role
The pieces won't fit my wandering soul....

The window to a soul hides
Behind the Shadow of our Eyes
Sharing shadows with Traveler
 Dec 2018 Yasin
Bree
Addicted
 Dec 2018 Yasin
Bree
I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.
6 months self harm free! Writing about it helps fight the urge

— The End —