"The word "It" he use, I am no longer a human being or have rights. I am just an "It" a thing not a real person. Just a thing. A thing who does the cooking, cleaning and washing in this house. What does he do? Drinks, gambled and go to bars hooking up with women. What worse can a child my age shall see? Well it just g...
For eleven years, Oakley Farrell has been silent. At the age of five, she stopped talking and no one seems to know why. Refusing to communicate beyond a few physical actions, Oakley remains in her own little world. Bullied at school, she has just one friend, Cole Benson. Cole stands by her refusing to believe that sh...
Sophie Campbell is a seventeen year old senior at Jackson High that also holds down a part-time job at the local coffee shop. The way Sophie sees it, there's no need for her to have a boyfriend in high school. All the boys are immature and she's lasted without love for 17 years so far... why not wait one more? However...
As the time goes by her smile does too. A constant frown is its replacement. Tears. Hurt. Pain. Words. Is that her only fate ?
Stella has had a hard life...her dad was gone, her mother hated her and the most popular boy at school suddenly starts talking to her. Everyone begins to pay more attention to her than usual. Life then starts to get a little worse. The football players and cheerleaders loath Stella. Her mom goes further than usual and...
Mason rubs his nose against my cheek. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. If he even comes close to you I'll rip his head off." He starts breathing heavily and lifts himself up more, hovering over me."No ones going to hurt you, I'll kill em. I'll kill him." His eyes turn black. I start getting uncomfortable...
My poetry dwells in the infinite sadness of the broken and the heartless.
This is that place no human dare goes. That dark and dismol room inside of your mind. Warning. This is a very explicit book. Read with caution.
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A series of letters to a once best friend, a series of letters he may never get to read. There are 73 days in summer, and that means 73 days of change. From a suicidal, depressed, self-harm addicted teenager into a (hopefully) stable young woman, this journal, written to my once best friend, chronicles my recovery. Th...
This is poetry that I wrote to channel my darker side when my friendship with the two most important people in my life ended, it's very relatable to people who have been betrayed or misled or abandoned. Enjoy. (Completed)