Why is it only when we cry
When we feel in despair
That our life is broken
Beyond repair
That we cannot be fixed

That with open heart
We finally turn to God
Hands full of broken parts
That we can finally say
I am so sorry, dear God

Can you please help me

Depression's a *****
Won't leave me alone
It thinks that my body is her home
And no matter how many times I assure her
No
She just keeps coming right back
Each time stronger than before

they say freedom is to be as free as a bird

independent and strong
not in a cage

they give me 'freedom'
but not how I say

they push me till I am right at the edge
say I need to jump
but I’m not ready to fledge

I know that’s how it works
I’ve seen it multiple times
you jump and you fly
                yeah I do believe that lie

but we are missing one point
my wings aren’t fully grown
now I’m standing on my own
cause I need to do it all alone

so I turn my back and ask

if they could do it one more time
cause I know they can

now I am

just standing on the ground
looking at the birds in the sky
admiring them knowing someday I will try

If this was your last
Would you be satisfied
With the words you had to say to me
With whatever's on your mind

This is, well, I can't even sugarcoat these things anymore, I've written so many, she had a presence in many circles.

I know Mari had friends on HP, more than just poetry buds, but good friends. She sadly was killed in action two weeks ago on Friday, April 4th, and was laid to rest in the main military cemetery April 7th in Kup"Yansk Vuzlovyy, Kharkivs'Ka Oblast', Ukrayina. Special sympathies to her husband SSgt J. Reihl of the 13th National Guard Brigade.

She'll be very missed by everyone who knew her. She was a true ray of sunshine in everyone's lives, despite so much loss in her young life she never stopped smiling or laughing unless she was posing for a glamour shot. Glory to Ukrayina, and glory to all her fallen heroes. Let their sacrifices for our freedom never be forgotten.

Major Tarasova, Med Svcs Kharkiv

I bite.
Not with teeth.
with silence,
with sharp glances,
with walls built higher than your reach.

I’m not cruel.
I’m just tired
of being kind first
and torn apart second.

You call it attitude.
I call it armor.
Because being soft
never saved me.
It only made the fall hurt more.

So I speak less now.
Agree less.
Trust less.
I pull away before someone has the chance
to walk out first.

It’s not that I don’t want love.
I’ve learned that even “I care about you”
can come with conditions.
Even soft hands
can leave bruises
you can’t see.

I bite
because once,
I didn’t.
And it nearly broke me.