toxic
and our bloodstreams were poisoned by this toxic love. [[lowercase intended.]]
writing is art and this is my palette of poems. [this is a collection of unfinished thoughts, poems, and whatever else comes to my head. some pieces may not make any sense because it's all a jumbled mess in my mind that I attempt to put into words. thank you for reading :) ] ©copyright 2016 - flavored - all rights res...
"this is your kind of story. no one is the good guy-- no one is the bad guy-- the blame shifts from monster to monster and in this place everyone bares their teeth." [featured. highest ranking: #6 in poetry.]
I've made this for you for when you're lost and alone when you're sinking like a stone use these words, these pieces of broken soul, to heal your own. - this is strictly for awareness, I do not encourage anyone to do the following and if you struggle with any of this please message me or contact a professional for...
A piece of soul in ink, and unto the paper it spilled. A collection of thoughts that rhyme from a wandering mind.
poetry by a person that's afraid of people. 12/23/15- #1 in poetry
"if i fed you spoonfuls of sugar would it make the bitterness in your heart leave" a collection. of poems. of stories. of poems telling stories of their own. [lowercase intended] x featured in @ec_poetry's Premium Books reading list x
when you still have this tiny, tiny bit of hope inside of you that they will learn how to love you again, even if there's this bigger part that knows: they never will. © sushitae- 「 highest ranking: #19 in poetry 」
it's 12 am and i'm wide awake --- just a short disclaimer from the author in 2021, please do note that this was written by a 15 year old.
"i was thinkin' about yesterday, when you asked me why i stayed, with this, and i didn't answer you. i didn't answer you, because i don't know why i stay. nova?" "yea?" "would you like to run away with me?" {cover: @guyswithguitars } highest ranking: #21 in Poetry || completed || "shoot for the moon. even...
" We are writers, my love. We don't cry, We bleed on paper. " - inksomniac A collection of original poems. My soul whispers... I write.
Pieces of my writing that got the chance to leave the notebook secretly hiding in the back of the white drawer filled with papers; papers to bury the notebook (and my thoughts) from the rest of the world. {;fragments of my soul;} {collection of poems, letters, short stories, and others}