Greeting Insanity
- LECTURAS 200
- Votos 36
- Partes 27
Concluida sáb, nov 11, 20171h 28m
I find comfort in the colors of the world
That's where the "doctors" have it wrong
Sticking people like me
In rooms adorned only with
Plain
Crisp
White
Walls
White room
White bed
White toiletries
White necessities
It's vile
It's cruel
And it makes them seem a fool
Placing me in a cell of plastic
A cubical of my own destruction
The world fades by
Repeating
Hazy
Just because I'm what they call
Crazy
I see white
White room
White bed
White toiletries
White necessities
It's stereotypical
It's defective
It feels
Repetitive
They first discover my "condition"
A problem to them
When I flung a can of paint
Screaming
My throat bled
Ear piercing
Agony ricocheting off the
Plain
Crisp
White
Walls
As I released the inner me
Congratulations
On greeting my insanity
Todos los derechos reservados
#39
artistic
Únete a la comunidad narrativa más grandeObtén recomendaciones personalizadas de historias, guarda tus favoritas en tu biblioteca, y comenta y vota para hacer crecer tu comunidad.
Quizás también te guste
WHEN THE RAIN FORGOT TO FALL
I wrote this because I needed to survive it. Because there are some feelings too big for silence. Some heartbreaks too heavy to carry alone. This isn't fiction. This is my heart, broken open and rearranged into verse. "I saw you standing where the sidewalk curves, and suddenly my chest knew different words." - That's how it started. A glance. A stranger. A feeling I couldn't ignore. "You said we needed to talk. Those five words, I knew. I already knew." - And that's how it ended. Not with fire. With silence. I won't tell you that time heals all wounds. I won't say everything happens for a reason. I won't pretend heartbreak makes you stronger. But I will show you that: You can survive what you think will destroy you. You can break and still become beautiful. You can love someone and lose them and still be whole. You can be your own happy ending. I wrote these poems with tears on my face. I wrote them on good days when I forgot to hurt. Every word is something I actually felt. Every line is a moment I actually lived. "You are not broken. You are breaking open. And that's where the light gets in." - That's what this taught me. That's what I hope it gives you, the comfort of knowing you're not alone.Concluida
The Torment
December twentieth is the day I remember being brought into the asylum for the first time. Like any typical psychopath, I screamed. I cried. I remember snatching the nurse's hair until she screamed and I was slapped into unconsciousness and thrown into the room. The only difference? I wasn't a psychopath. For the first few days, I would cry maniacally upon hearing any nurse go by, to catch one's attention and tell her that I wasn't insane. "That's exactly what an insane person would say" They said, unbothered and it was as if my fate rested in the mouldy walls of the Asylum. And I soon realized that there was no use fighting for my life now .Which brings me to the present day, another one that I'll mark in history with red. The day I met him.Concluida
Can I Say Goodbye?
I'm always searching for something worth staying for but I can't seem to find that until then please don't mind me because I'm just a traveler passing through. When I'm not satisfied or happy I'll leave and find a new path, so just let me say goodbye... Can I say goodbye? I wrote till my hands bruised and heart bled. I wrote and wrote in hopes that some day, somebody will understand my words and all the things I wish I could say... Each poem is a story. My story. Some are fictional but most of them are true. I know you're curious. From painful heart breaks to high school stories. A person dealing with mental illnesses, fears and abuse. Won't you like to know about the drama?Concluida
Bleeding Hearts
I write, because I am.// Too many emotions, // Overflowing, // As my heart bleeds // Words onto paper. // I write, // Therefore I am. ------------------- Cover credit goes to @WattAnOtaku OHMYGODTHANKYOUSOMUCHILOVECHU!!AAHHH!! ------------------- Tiz the second poetry book in this collection~ Enjoy! ^-^Concluida
Between an Aphrodisiac & a Loathing Place.
A collection of poetry that has been written from me (and my constant battle with wrecking insanity). Some will make sense; some will leave you with a big ole' question mark; but, like myself, not everything can be precise and make definite sense. I will try my best to have new additions every week from my on-going-twisted-love-affair of writing poetry. For all the support and encouragements you all share with me - I do humbly appreciate all that you say and do. The feeling I get when another writer comments, or votes is imperial to how I interrupt that my work has some actual capabilities of reaching out and affecting someone's day or even their own life. So, please, if you like the poetry that I've consciously poured my heart, soul and thoughts out, please, leave a comment, or vote for how much this piece or any other of my poetry has helped. If it has given you hope, acknowledgement, or just an awareness that someone, like me, knows exactly what you can go through first hand, let me see how much it affects you. Even the 'poet' needs some love shown. :) Copyright © 2015-2017 By T. A. Hinson All Rights Reserved All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. *Chart Achievements: Peak: #1 🏆 [mywords] Peak: #2 [WordArt] *New Peak Position: #3 TAHinson Peak: #10 [madman]Concluida
Amore.
This is a series of short stories, poems and thoughts I've written over the years, compiled into this collection. Most of these were written years ago. Some I've written as early as this year (2025). The purpose of this volume is to feel. Feel everything as though you are the main character experiencing each emotion expressed through my writing. These are written through my perspective as a woman, but please let this resonate with you regardless of your identity. Please vote, comment, like and share. Thank you! - nhiamareConcluida
Poetry As Ruined As I
A collection of Poems about a cluster-fuck of things; from wanting to die to jumping in front of trains, to sex on the phone and love beneath the bedsheets. Being so full of emotion to void of it all, the darkest of thoughts and most suicidal of moments. All boundaries crossed - Death, Rape, Mental Health. The Sun and the moon, and the wrath of an endless sky of stars. Where violence and abuse walk hand in hand, and the rain makes you wonder "what do our rooms look like when we die?" [warning://contains.death.and.life.&.everything.in-between.&:@/) You're going to have to read it to find out.Concluida
She.
Poetry, scenes and short stories written from the fingertips of a girl who doesn't know her own heart. She's filled each corner with love and light that she thought was pure just to watch it rot off and fill like a gaping dark hole. But these heartbreaks made her heart what it is now. Whatever her heart is now.m She Series: Book one.Concluida
I wrote this because I needed to survive it. Because there are some feelings too big for silence. Some heartbreaks too heavy to carry alone. This isn't fiction. This is my heart, broken open and rearranged into verse. "I saw you standing where the sidewalk curves, and suddenly my chest knew different words." - That's how it started. A glance. A stranger. A feeling I couldn't ignore. "You said we needed to talk. Those five words, I knew. I already knew." - And that's how it ended. Not with fire. With silence. I won't tell you that time heals all wounds. I won't say everything happens for a reason. I won't pretend heartbreak makes you stronger. But I will show you that: You can survive what you think will destroy you. You can break and still become beautiful. You can love someone and lose them and still be whole. You can be your own happy ending. I wrote these poems with tears on my face. I wrote them on good days when I forgot to hurt. Every word is something I actually felt. Every line is a moment I actually lived. "You are not broken. You are breaking open. And that's where the light gets in." - That's what this taught me. That's what I hope it gives you, the comfort of knowing you're not alone.
Más detallesPautas de Contenido