Suicide-awareness Stories

The poem follows the short time that Lily's ghost experiences after her death. Originally planned to be a story about a jobless girl, who lives all alone only accompanied by her depression. Inspired by "The Morning After I Killed Myself"

<This is the original version of "My Stripper Mate"> If you want to read the new and improved version: https://www.wattpad.com/story/84229731-my-stripper-mate His hands gently caressed down the sides of my arms, igniting a fire I thought had been dead a long time ago. "Beautiful." Me mumbled against the delicate skin of my neck. A shiver crawled down my back as the hair on my neck stood. I whimpered softly as he latched his lips onto my neck, pulling the skin into his warm mouth. His tongue touched my neck causing my knees to cave. I fell into his trap. "Mine." He removed his lips from my neck and scoped me up with one arm under my legs and one around my waist. It was then, and only then that I realized I didn't know him. "Let go of me!" I screeched in sudden awareness of what was happening. His grip only tightened as I continued to scream. In one swift movement he wrapped my legs around his waist and swung my arms around his shoulders. With his free hand he covered my mouth. "You're mine." He growled. Adelaide Fox's life was by no means considered easy. Constant moving from one foster home to the next, she had no family, no money, and worst of all no hope. Her journey filled with sorrows seemed to have no end, until fate threw its final blow. He found her. Wilder Black the Alpha of the Dark Skies pack. He prides himself on his accomplishments, reigning over the Americas he has all he could have asked for, except one thing, his mate. He would do anything to get her. <> DISCLAMER! This book is not stolen. Upon request, I am posting the old version of my book. Do not report this book for copyright!

I called this collection as such cos of the fear and possibly hatred I have for clowns. Ever since I can remember, this is the one fear thats been constant. When I write I tend to use the word "clown(s)" to represent any bad feelings I have. Feelings that put me in a depressed state. I use the name "Deadclown" as a way to deal with my mind when I go through periods of being sad, angry, frustrated and so on as this, in my ideal world would be how I would like these clowns to be - Below is a brief description of my poems * Free Me of My Untruths & I Might Just Die -are about inner conversations I have with myself at times, as I'm sure a lot of people do. I don't know * Lonely Journey - for Kurt Cobain who's been a huge influence in my life * Fractured Solace - about suicidal thoughts which is why I wrote the poem in the shape of a ribbon to honour the ribbon for "Suicide Awareness" * Shadows Steal My Breath - how I imagined Heathcliff to be feeling after the death of Cathy. Written as though I were Heathcliff in an ABC style * The Night I Welcomed Death - originally meant to be a song I was writing but instead altered some of the words, removed the chorus and changed it into a poem * Inside Rape - not about a sexual rape, it's about the way I tend to not give my positive thoughts any room to develop. I always tend to soil them with negativity * The Key (part 1) Death of The Keyholder - originally meant to be a story I was working on (like a Tolkien style Lord of The Rings kind of thing) but it turned into this poem. * Forever My Darkness - There's a lot of letters in this and when I see a lot of letters or a lot of anything I guess, I tend to think of them as people crowding me and making me feel uncomfortable like I don't belong. This is why I chose to seperate the words "This is me" from all the other words. I don't mind being an outsider. Thats just how it is * 9 Titles and Still 1 State of Mind - Using the other 9 poem titles