Story cover for LGBTQ+ Poem by phanwhiskstrash
LGBTQ+ Poem
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Ongoing, First published May 20, 2018
I am really proud of this. I was asked to write something so we could make an animated video of someone in the school reading out their own work for pride month. And this is the message I have decided to attempt to get across...
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My Poetry Escape by Someone_Invisible15
77 parts Complete
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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Cheat

65 parts Ongoing Mature

I've written 3 anonymous online journals so far in my life. The first was as an adolescent, ending when, at 19, I commenced a long term relationship in which my partner had an issue with me writing about my thoughts and feelings in case they were about her. I also had to cease my other creative outlet - drawing. Because she felt it's abstracted nature hid secret messages about her. The second started when that relationship was coming to an end. I needed an outlet. I had nobody to talk to about what I was going through so I secretly started writing again. This is that second journal, when I was around 25 years old, which I've taken from it's retired blogger page and have transferred here. Part of the reason I am doing this is because my daughter, who was very young at the time of writing this, has expressed some curiosity about my journal. One day when she's older and has more life experience it might be OK to see what I'm writing now, but in the meantime, she can read this, a moment in my life for which she was present but that she could not understand at the time.