Random Letters
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Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Sun, Apr 22, 2018
I couldn't say that what I write is real. Sometimes they are, sometimes they just aren't. The random letters became the purest of me. The rawest of my thoughts put into words for people that may be real, or an imagination of this creative mind.
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My Poetry Escape
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In life, we do things we regret, or that we wish we could wipe from our memory forever. At the age of 15, I didn't think I'd regret anything until I was an adult. I considered myself care free. I lived life one day at a time. Well, as much as a 15 year old can. But in life, there are also things that we can't change, that we can't forget. Circumstances change, events occur, and life as we know it is altered forever. For me, it was one night, that set in motion a series of events that I wouldn't be able to forget, even if I tried to. *************************** My life was spectacular, or cool, but I was content, and that's all that mattered. I wasn't overly popular, I wasn't the prettiest girl, and I didn't live in a mansion. I did have a great boyfriend, and amazing friends, and hell, I wasn't doing too bad in school either. But that all changed one night, as I was walking home at night. I witnessed a man murder someone he claimed was a snitch, something to do with a gang deal gone wrong. When I found my parents dead the next day in a serial killers wet dream, my naive self decided the best thing I could do, was run, giving up everything I loved. After 2 years, 3 dead members of the gang and a new school, I was found. When secrets are unraveled and with the FBI somehow involved, nothing is as it ever seemed.Complete
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I may just be a girl. No one special. Nothing compared to others. In the eyes of the universe, I am just a little speck of dust. My light may not shine very bright, and it may not be of any use, but I am me. Writing is my only escape out of this world. I cry rivers of ink and climb mountains of words. I may not write as well as others, but my writing is just a different style. They're my feelings. I really do hope you can connect to some of the work in here. Please, do not copy any of this work without informing me first. Thank you! "My Escape" I have a supply, In the closet near my bed, Of past memories, Hanging by a thread. A thread, Connected to my mind, That thread, Just follows me around. I have a hole, In the middle of my heart, That hole fills up, When someone's torn apart. I have a tear, Accompanying my lonely eye, Knowing, whenever I'm alone, I can sit in a corner and cry. Even though, These things are there, I still have ink, a notebook, and a pen, To care. I write and write, To my heart's desire, New feelings erupt, By the hour. Writing is, My one escape, In this cruel and careless world, I have the power, to awake. "A Story Without Words" A story told, In a little tune, A golden smile, And a shining tear, Rolling down my cheek. A little breeze, The nice sun, A marvelous day, Turned into a wet one. The memories dripped, Down on my cotton white shirt, Leaving stains, On my malicious heart. Your smile, Worth a thousand words, Can't cheer up This depressive mind. A storm bewildered, Your indecisive mind, Drowning me, In my reckless thoughts. A rainy day, A gleaming lie, A story not told, With words Nor sounds. This story is, But a mere thought, In this universe We share, Every night. This story is, A withering storm, Drifting off, In this careless soul. This story is, Not told with sounds, But a never ending blow, Of swirling emotions, Bottled up inside.
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