RYOU
- Reads 155
- Votes 17
- Parts 4
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My Poetry Escape
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.Complete!["I'm not the monster on the inside." • [Tom x Reader]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/192479305-256-k867000.jpg)
"I'm not the monster on the inside." • [Tom x Reader]
You've known Tom since the two of you were little kids. The two of you grown very close to each other as you got older. But growing into adults, you started to notice Tom acting different. You tried to not put much mind into it thought. Two years later you and Tom decided to move in together. This is just when you really saw that there was something wrong with Tom. You ask him what was wrong all he would tell you is, "oh I'm fine y/n" or, "there isn't anything wrong y/n" that just worried you more. One day tom was acting very, very weird... you had to ask him again but this time you were more serious about asking. Once you asked he sighed looking up at you. "I'm getting tracked down and followed... because of something that this person thinks involves me...." tom said. You wanted to ask more but couldn't due to you being socked. You just knew you wanted to be there for Tom as much as possible and help protect him. (Original cover art was not made by me, just a simple edit over) (I do not own any of the characters in this story) (All warnings aren't listed in the first chapter posted)Complete
Inside an Enigma (Youth Years)
Dear Reader, This journal is my own personal journal. As you read, you will come across letters, school work, essays, entries, photos, drawings, etc,. on how I, myself, experienced and saw the world. This is dedicated for those who seek what is true and is on a current quest to develop the betterment of oneself along with the multitude of peers in society. My objective is to help open new perspectives some may never have thought of, to open ears to those who may not hear, and to widen eyes of those who missed the small glimpses that were in front of them. With the constant change of new technology; Society reinventing itself day by day- I want to put out at least one source that shows what the world really is, and how to find the simplicity in life, because to most it seems seldom easy. You see, my main goal is not to live forever, but to create something that will. To create something that outlives me.Complete
Running from the gang
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
M¡nd of M¡a
My diary. Basically.Complete
Silent Echoes
This is where I let everything out-the chaos, the silence, the things I can't say out loud. It doesn't judge, doesn't ask why, doesn't need explanations. It just exists, ready to catch whatever spills from my mind, whether it's broken pieces or fleeting moments of joy. It feels like talking to someone who's always there but never speaks, just listens-and somehow, that's enough.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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