Emotional Amnesia
  • Reads 3,663
  • Votes 482
  • Parts 98
  • Time 50m
  • Reads 3,663
  • Votes 482
  • Parts 98
  • Time 50m
Complete, First published Mar 16, 2018
Sometimes when I say "I'm okay", I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight and say, "I know you're not".

I have felt like this many times in my life; as a kid, teenager and as an adult. I have seen many things in my life and felt even more things that has been horribly depressing...
But I got up. I stood up to walk on for another day. I dealt with my emotional amnesia the only way I knew I could and that was by writing it out into poetry.
I wanted to forget my pain and forget what I was going through. I needed that cut of the blade or a pill to drink to take everything away. My poetry became both my pill and my blade...

Now I share the most intimate part of myself with the world. The part of me I kept hidden in the closet. The part I never thought I would ever present to the world. Now is the time I have to stop having amnesia about my emotions. It is time to learn, to better myself and to stand up and remember the things that I shut out like a voluntary amnesia all these years. 

Those who are offended after reading this - f**k you! If you are sad with me and willing to cut your wrist - I know how you feel! If you just enjoy the words - I love you!

#679 in Poetry on 17/03/2018
#779 in Poetry on 18/03/2018
#807 in Poetry on 19/03/2018
#474 in Poetry on 22/03/2018
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Secret Mind ✓

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"She's right! She's right! I don't cut in the right spot." My hold tightens on my wrist. The red blood oozes out of my wrist. I slide up and grab my bag and run out of the bathroom. I don't care if people can see the blood I just want to get out. I race for the doors and shove through people. I earn a lot of glares and glances that read "weirdo." I ignore and push. I run to my house and lock myself in my bathroom. I don't bother closing the front door cause I don't care if people come in to kill me. I grab my razor and cut deep cuts into my arm and wrists falling into a pool of my own blood. • • • Evangeline has a great life. Friends? Check! Good grades? Check! Loving family? Check! But what if she has secrets that nobody knows of? What if the only thing she can trust is her secret diary? What if slowly but surly she's dying inside? How can an innocent twelve year old deal with these problems? Will she keep on facing these problem till the day she breaks. Her school burns down forcing her into a different school to meet different people and she has to fit into a different lifestyle as well. Meet Evangeline. Now at 17 years of age in a new high school. Not all girls anymore. No uniform. Meet Drake. Your classic bad-boy. He just moved to Saint Abigail high school. He is assigned partners with the quiet, calm, unnoticed Evangeline. As time progresses he finds that she isn't as happy on the inside as she is on the outside. Can he save her? Or is it too late? • • • Some rude language. Depression and cutting. Don't say I didn't warn you. Okay, I wrote this at the start of this year (may 2016) and I had very poor writing skills. This book hasn't been edited and the whole idea is cliche so I wouldn't recommend you read it but I'm not stopping you, either. Read at your own risk. • • • Copyright © 2017 by -moonlust. All rights reserved.