Repetition Stories

The world of dreams is one of the most fascinating and mysterious things about the human mind. It's a world where seemingly anything can happen and the possibilities are limitless. It's a world where nightmares are real and the line between waking and sleeping is thin. It's a place where we can encounter our deepest fears and greatest desires. It's a beautiful and terrifying place... Especially when your dream, turns into a nightmare. And in Aricelas' case, a dream that refuses to let her go.

This particular story has no theme (hence the title "random poems"). Poems will most likely be added sporadically and this will be an ongoing thing for a while

Thinking is my biggest escape from everything but also the thing that makes me feel completely trapped, all the time. Once and a while I just have to let it out. (Read past the first one because the first one is the worst)

On what would normally be an average sleepless night working the Bison Convenience Store's notoriously quiet night-shift, a lonely clerk finds herself in the midst of a time-bending anomaly, centering around an even more anomalous stranger, and his seeming love for gas station snacks.

short poem about isolation

Jenny sings in the laundry room. She always has, as far as her neighbors know. If she did before she moved in, they can't know of course. Jenny is a bit difficult to speak to. I originally wrote this in Swedish back when I was in university. This is the English translation.

A series of poems written by a teenage girl who loves to be alone but hates to be lonely.

This is a book of poetry, lyrics and parodies that I've written. Most of my poetry is humorous with the occasional long ones. My lyrics are from songs that I've created (mostly in the shower). The parodies are parodies of songs that I've created of popular songs. I hope you enjoy it!

Time has taken a 180-degree turn, which leads me to question the correct definition of "time". Is it the passing of seconds, or the allowance of this world for new events? If I were to believe in the latter, it would mean time has stopped for me. With no memory of how it all began, I wake up every morning to the same exact occurrences as those of the preceding day; and nobody besides me seems to notice. I can't tell if I'm in a dream, or if there's a way out, but I've looked everywhere for an explanation. Then my situation finally took a major shift—with the discovery of a golden notebook.

A poem about a man growing up and living through repetition and societal norms. Inspired by the song Beautiful Blue Sky by Ought

A short Creepy Poem i made About a Teddy .

A short story centering around suburban 1950s house wife Jane -Anne Teal. Jane-Ann can't stop picking up the phone. Every day at 3:30, Jane-Anne picks up the yellow rotary phone, and every day the person she calls doesn't answer. Her neighbors call her crazy. Her children call her sad, and her husband call her grieved but she can't stop. Who is she calling, and why can't she stop? Find out in The Yellow Phone.

Status: Completed I named this collection "Muffled Voice" because the words in the following poems are those which I couldn't say out loud. 1st poetry collection: Muffled Voice 2nd poetry collection: Poetic Noise Achieved first place in Wattpad Selenic Awards. All the poems are originally written by me. The graphics used in the book do not belong to me, unless stated otherwise. You may not like some poems as some of them were written when I was new to writing. ⚠NOTE: Two poems are not mine. *.Sτɾσηɠ ρσωεɾ τɧαηκ γσμ.*

A girl says lol every time and gets in trouble

The last thing i see is my alarm clock flashing 12:07 before she pushes her long, rusting nails through my chest, her other hand muffling my screams. I sit bolt upright, relieved it was only a very vivid dream, but as i see my alarm clock read 12:06, I hear my closet door creak open.

Many years ago a witch was sealed underneath the temple. Every twenty years a woman would have to be sacrificed to her, or the village would be destroyed by her curse. Follow the stories of the sacrifices who resist their destiny.

My heart is broken so baby Pick up the shards and Use them as razors As you Slit My Throat My soul is torn so sugar Grab the next piece And pull more off For your Useless Little Collage of the damned My body is done so sweetie Keep pouring this whiskey And throw it down my throat As if you were somebody who had Actually cared, shove it down quick As I jump off the platform With this tight noose And break my spine, Letting the world free of Yet another troublesome Creature with whom the Animals attack and the Men use as punching bags, Achieving nothing but pure... Bliss