love elizabeth s.
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[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]
a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”
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Better to admit you walked through the wrong door than spend your life in the wrong room.
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Marie Howe, from What the Living Do; “Watching Television”
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i think i‘ll always love you
even if its just a little bit
ten years from now a piece of my heart will still beat for you
maybe its the curiosity of ,what if‘
or maybe its the emptiness speaking
but nomatter why,
i‘ll always love you
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My apologies, i didn't live up to your expectations.
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Grieving, grieving, constantly grieving.
I mourn what could have been, what should have been, what will not be, what I cannot save.
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dear nex,
your school failed you.
your peers failed you.
the hospital failed you.
authorities fail you,
adults fail you,
words fail you.
i fail you,
and i'm so sorry.
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“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson
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