Healing

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's a poem I made when I was in D.E.S.C.C. a program I was able to get into instead of being expelled when I was caught giving drugs to another student.

Submitted: February 03, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 03, 2010

A A A

A A A


On a ledge screaming loudly,

but no one hears.

Cold and desperate I ignore the trees,

the hail,

the wind,

my natural hell.

I pretend it doesn't hurt.

I Can't.

I Won't.

Until the storm hits it's peak,

I let it push me off the edge

and into the water where it's warm and calm.

Where I drown softly.

But then my peace strike back,

throwing to the rocks

while burning my throat,

mouth,

my body and mind.

Doing more damage then the storm.

I try to swim

but

the currents hit harder as do I until

finally,

I reach land and SCREAM for help

finding that I can not speak.

My throat, damaged beyond repair, has no strength.

I seek seek help and I am greeted by warmth

and

peace.

Paraniod, I wait for this peace to strike,

but it

never does.


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