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Those Nights
I rested my head on the stuffed bear's arm, turning it slowly to face me, and though I tried to hold back the tears, I broke into a sob, having no control over the wails emanating from my throat. I screamed into its soft chest as I clutched it in my arms. Convulsive gasps escaped my throat. My body jerked, wetting the bear's fur as I cried, wishing, praying.
Its arm supported my head as I continued to weep, feeling so lost but so warm. After what felt like hours, my eyes became dry. My voice had quieted but even still. I held the bear close, not uttering a word, just holding it. I rocked myself slowly to calm myself further, and though I felt as if I could fall asleep lying here, my heart and head had never been more full of thoughts and wants.
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I wrote this piece shortly after coming home from a mental health facility. Everything was overwhelming, especially my home-life, and my only thought and want was to sleep the pain away. As I laid there staring at the empty ceiling my thoughts began to consume my mind and I couldn’t help but feel so helpless in that moment. Everything hurt, and I wished for someone to take this pain from me, but no one was ever there to help. And the only ones who were ever there were my stuffed animals. I would hug them and tell them all my sorrows and hold them as if they were real people. I longed to be comforted by someone other than myself but they were all I had, they were my home.