Writng Stories

As I heard the whistle of the wind and the song of the wave as I listened to the tree burst into life the morning took over the night the moon gave in, as the sun rose to its power As I was called back as I stumbled on my way I made a place in my mind, for vivid memories...... A collection of poems and stories by Cheshta Kaushal A KIND REQUEST TO ALL PLEASE REFRAIN FROM USING MY POEMS AS YOUR WORKS, COPYRIGHT IS A CRIME

hey hey hey! I've decided to start a new book of poetry, even though my others aren't completed yet lol :P soooo, for this book I'm gonna write whatever I choose to write about that doesn't coincide with my other books. I hope you enjoy! :)

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Assortment of some of my original poetry.

[inspired by to all the boys ive loved before] Ethans girlfriend broke up with him , Ethan was so devasted so he turned to his girl bestfriend and asked her if she would be his fake girlfriend just to get back with his ex.

here u go mr p

This one is a little murky, and ig kinda horrorish.....????? I have no idea I just word vomit and fix spelling and grammar to the best of my ability. I really have no idea how to write. Anyway here's a preview of the work: Through the double edged sword within my chest, I can see myself, young and blossoming before the large ever-growing trees, deep within forests filled with skeletons covered by wisps of white cobwebs, crawling with spiders nipping at the bone. Cool air tucks my hair behind my ears, frost crawling up my fingertips leaving me frozen within these parts, a story never forgotten but never to be told. The sky expands and crushes winged birds above me, painting the sky and my humble hands black. Black enough to see down within them, into the sunken earth, their eyes stare back into mine, smiling their crooked smiles, all three of them. It feels so cold, it hurts to blink and the stench of dead animal crowds my vision as it gags me and strings me up by my head. Singsong voices crawling from the dirt within my hands as monsters erupt before me. Scraping at my arms and legs begging for a change. They pluck my eyes out to feast on, and rip the spine from my back to use as a walking stick on their travels of the world, new, fresh, levitating people on to make their own journey of the things they have stolen from me.

from plot ideas to status of my books. this is for you.

This confussed teenage girl saw the power of the writing challenge. Have a look at how it cahnged her life and how it could change yours!

Anyone can have the covers in here but I'm opening a new cover shop because this has a lot of chapters. :D

Hi guys, I'm sorry if my book is not that good bec. I'm new at doing this stuff ???

The Last Book of Shumate Poems.

This is not a manual written by an expert. It is the diary of a heart learning to heal - a raw, vulnerable journey through trauma, depression, and the fragile hope that the only way out... is through. For years, pain was hidden beneath bandages of silence. But healing doesn't come from hiding. It comes from facing the wounds, naming them, and walking through them step by step. In The Only Way Out Is Through: The Diary of a Heart in Repair, Hannah shares deeply personal reflections on emotional recovery - not as someone who has "arrived," but as someone still on the road. Through chapters of honesty and resilience, this book traces the phases of healing: denial, confrontation, setbacks, rediscovery, and the slow rebuilding of hope. Each entry blends diary‑style storytelling with gentle insights, offering companionship to anyone navigating their own darkness. This is not professional advice. It is a testament to survival, a reminder that progress is possible, and a hand reaching out to say: you are not alone. Content Note: This book contains reflections on trauma, depression, body image, anxiety, and emotional pain. Please take care of yourself while reading. Copyright © 2026 Hania M. - All Rights Reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or used without the author's permission.