"Give me ten days, and I can give you ten reasons not to die." Evan paused. "And if I can't change your mind by then, you can go jump off that cliff."

Trapped. Surrounded on all sides by an overpowering barrier visible only to you. A barrier consisting of your thoughts, your dreams, your hopes, separating you from the rest of the world. Thoughts struggling to escape, the memories vivid in your head. You're trying to push back the flood of emotion, trying to break down that wall that's separating you from the judgement that awaits you at the other side. Your fears captivate you and morph you into a new person entirely. Surrounded on all sides and breaking into cold perspiration. Enveloping you is that same fear, gripping at your heart. You stand still hoping for the storm to back down, hoping for another chance. Sooner or later you're faced with reality and you'll know there's no turning back. All that remains is a whisper of silence.

Poetry on nature and experience

"A little song in my heart?" Not really. What Jo has is closer to a symphony, with a variety of instruments pouring out their sounds in unity while fighting for dominance. The melodies parade around her head, and then gently float up to the sky like brightly-colored balloons. It's an eternal symphony, and she is the conductor. Jo has taken daydreaming to the point of delirious bliss, and she tends to wander around the edges of reality. Everyone who is "real" has ripped themselves away from her in fear. She's sinking deeper into the radiant sea of denial. But there are always ripples of truth that poke through the protective wraps around her heart. And she might be starting to learn that not every song is a lullaby. (Some of these I've posted on goodreads as well. I hope you enjoy reading them!♡)

[Wattpad Featured Book][#13 poetry and #5 in sonnet][#2 in ponder] What is a thought? A fickle thing is it not? With it pain may be wrought and or salvation brought. It is this that I sought, to express my inner thought. Enjoy what I have brought, for thoughts are not so easily caught.

Perhaps someday these words will make up for the bloodshot eyes and sleepless nights. [H.R: #13 in Poetry] beautiful cover by: @-averagesky

Charlie doesn't speak, so he paints.

❝i've delicately chosen letters to form words and words to form sentences, each sentence a colorful paint stroke on the canvas of my mind.❞ [ #1 in poetry on 27/08/16 ]