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Location: Roanoke, VA
Last Seen: Wed, 05 Nov 2014
Countless hours spent in fear may soon come to an end, as I cast out my demon and rekindle powers from within. No more shall I be a slave to one who seeks only to break my spirit, although his threats may be loud, I simply refuse to hear it. I fight the guilt I feel inside knowing I am only trained to feel that side. And with new strentgth, from the ashes I rise, determined to imitate the Phoenix. There is no stitch to close a wound that one won't allow to heal. I sew my gashes now myself, no more blood will I let him spill.
The life lived can only be described as a lesson of patience, tolerance, and ability to recover. Pain melts with pleasure melts with happiness and sadness meshed with a plethora of other emotions into the mosaic that we live in day to day. How long can we bleed without healing wounds before all that remains of us is a shell? How can one feel happiness without ceasing first the tears that fall like rain endlessly? Where does one look for love when all that is seen is proof of the lonliness and hatred that lies 'round every corner, in every darkened alley, and every brightly lit town? Reality is often more surreal than dreams, truth without logic running rampant as we stand by helpless to stop it. There can be no hope for saving the world if we cannot first save the devilish spirit of man that haunts the souls of more and more of us every day. A Savior can not save those who don't believe that they need saving.
I hold in deepest regard, my fellow man. Herein lies my paradox, while I love all mankind and have deep compassion and empathy for them, I can only loathe it at the same time for its unbearable ability to inflict pain upon one another for no apparent reason whatsoever....This senseless behavior of hurting one another is beyond my understanding and I shudder to think I must be part of this race that can so easily do so when we have the ability to think and to feel and to KNOW full well the effects of the harm inflicted.
by Crystal Nichole Bradbury
Inhale slowly, take the pain away,
a swallow, briskly, helps you face the day.
Red-rimmed eyes, pale, white face,
smile on your lips, you're in a happy place.
Afternoon approaches, and with it will come tears,
unless you can find that last 5 bucks...
just a few more beers.
Evening wears thin, and you can barely move,
the baby crying in the den, but you are too confused.
Inhaled once too many times, your bottle nearly empty
and you can't think over all that racket, isn't it a pity?
Polish off the bottle, and stagger to the baby,
you can't take the noise, screaming driving you crazy.
Trip over your own feet as you hold the baby high,
walk with him to the stairs, slurring to him, "don't you cry".
He needs to go to bed now, but you can't see through the blur,
head over heels, now you can hear "How on Earth will we tell her?"
You can't remember falling, and now you can't feel your legs,
the doctor sadly touches you, "You're paralyzed, and the baby's dead."