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A brave warrior fell today…
A life taken by her own hands
For why we will not know.

Skill, Drive, and Smart…

An active activist,
A pusher of progression for progress.

I stop to reflect
On my own dialect,
My own rederic.

A world filled with people
Stronger, faster, and more fit.

Resisting an urge to be weak,
To seek the status of lie-s.
Just – to – get – by.

“We are strong & not meek.”
They cry to passers by.
Rhetoric told to tame our minds.

But my world is different and full.

We need more courage
To stand up to this mirage
Of instant strength…
Of instant strength.

It’s okay to be weak.
To discuss fears & shed tears.
Of Shame and Sorrow.

The breadth of my voice
Speaks gallons of emotions
Gallons of reflections.

My arms open to embrace,
The emotions you face.

To be there…
Solid like a tree – determined to absorb – and transform.
To not mask
These therapeutic tears of growth and trajectory
To something new and less blue.

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uploadThe news came to me a week ago that someone I had known in Montreal had died – taken her life in an abrupt moment.

I question all of this in my mind. This womyn was positive, an activist, deep thinker, adventurous and really seemed to have so much going for her.

Her close friends, foreign friends, distant friends are all left wondering why? To most there wasn’t any signs that indicated that she was struggling.

But it really begs the point for me. Is there a stereotypical type of person that defines suicidal? No. Not really.

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