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@stormycloudypoems / stormycloudypoems.tumblr.com

I climb and write and art. That's right, I art. Luke, 24. If God takes life he's an Indian giver
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Goodbye insipid dryness And weekly bloody noses My skin is always shedding  I’m off to smell the roses Adventuring into the uknown....

Or more like the semi-known? I’m sorry to friends I’ve left alone.

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I have not been able to write The reason’s I do not know why All of my canvas remains white I keep standing idly by I have to stop twiddling my thumbs All this creativity yet I feel so numb You, my muse have me so occupied  I absolutely adore you that is no lie Much of my writing has come from abuse But you have treated me so well I no longer feel like I’m swimming in hell My knotted up mind has been feeling so loose

When I hear your voice every single night My head could float it feels so light I seldom have these complicated thoughts And can you imagine why? It’s you It’s you It’s you It’s really you I adore you I love you

There’s nothing left unsaid between you and I And that’s why I don’t need to write

All of the damned time....

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I want nails scraping down my back You’ll be the one to hammer them in Will you tell me the things I lack? And allow me to be your sin...

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We wait inside the yellow lines In hopes that one day we'll find That for us there's a true destination There's no suicide up for contemplation The light at the end of the tunnel is neither heaven or hell It's home, we all want to go there as well

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This is the end This is good bye You’re not my friend You’re the apple of my eye Everything that this is, it just makes me sad Thought to never leave but some how you had You slipped right through my fingers And all of my feelings forever linger What you did I’ll never get past Your feelings for me have withered to the last You’ve found some one new, probably better Maybe if you think of me write me a letter

I can’t grasp what life would be like without her Always seeking solace from my shelter I liked being your roof, and a place to keep you warm But I can’t be that while I’m stuck feeling ignored

Seek me no longer as familiar comfort This roof is now stone cold, and protected by a rampart I will be a castle, gated and made of stone You’re no longer this castles queen, not fit for my throne I must stay safe, I must stay protected And the first order is to tear down this monument you have erected

I command you to leave no trace I don’t want anyone thinking this is still your place It’s not and I don’t think it will ever be Keep flying like a bird, out there is your tree

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Tonight I wrote about you A poem you will never know One that I’m unsure anyone will ever know After tonight who knows if I will even know? You see the page is ridden with  Scratched out words                                   Profanity                                                                          And tears It is the saddest poem I’ve ever written And even sadder because it’s about  The one Who caused me so much

happiness                                                                      

                             And right now                             Has left me                           Numb

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When there is a spark, we abandon the house and do not look each other in the eyes as we walk the same direction

There is static in the attic

and your hair stands and dances. It

              is braver than the two of us; shy birds

with two feet on one telephone wire. 

We live these two separate lives, afraid of electrocution 

                                                       but we still remain busy

swapping stories from

                           the static we clean out of our ears. 

I guess we will wait for the next lightning storm

to scare us out of the rain and

                              produce thunder loud enough

             for us to say “I love you” without the 

                           danger of being heard.

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One year! Post it Forward launched one year ago! You’ve been building a supportive community through your stories about mental illness—and mental wellness—for one whole year. Specifically: 8,500 individual stories in 8,500 posts. You used GIFs, poetry, prose, illustrations, videos, and so many other forms of art for people to look at and realize,  “Hey…I’m not alone.”

To mark the occasion, Post it Forward will post original PIF-themed art from our Creatrs all week long. Got your own story to tell? Tell it through your Tumblr and tag it #postitforward so everyone can find it. You’ll make someone out there realize that, hey, they’re not alone, either.

Here’s how Lala Vicencio (@lalavicencio) is Posting it Forward for Mental Health Awareness. Happy anniversary, Tumblr.

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Your ambiguity is killing me. It's hard to understand what you mean. How enigmatic can one be? All that is coming can never be seen.

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You call me late at night while I'm asleep in bed You say you want to see me And you’ll kiss and grab my head Once you’re done you leave me And I’m unsure what this is You tell me that I’m nothing This is just business

You are the one that called It’s not me that needs you I am the one getting stalled This reality is untrue

Where are you during the day Or even during the week You never bother to say hey Except when I’m trying to sleep I think of you as a reoccurring dream One that always ends the same I wake up and scream You’re an unneeded nightmare One that’s just so plain

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