This Picture Has A Twist

This Picture Has A Twist

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jan 18, 2015
Wind blows through my nonexistent hair, goosebumps arising on the tips of my skin. Ever get that feeling where you're "happy"? Not fully, but just in that moment nothing's bothering you. Where you're running through the grass without any shoes. You feel the soft stab of the grass prick you on the palm of your feet, taking in a whiff of freshly cut grass. The vitamin D from the Sun sinks into your skin giving you the proper nutrients you need. Feeling refreshed as your lungs exhale the air that has just been turned into Carbon Dioxide. Life feels good. But all of a sudden you're kicked back into reality. Depression kicks into your system as you fall to the ground, wanting to cry but you're all out of tears. That feeling. Have you ever had it?
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#62
alopecia
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I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.

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