Stupid Thoughts
- Reads 99
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- Parts 6
MatureOngoing9m
Last published Tue, Oct 15, 2019
Rambling poetry diary where I say what I can't normally say to people...
TW: Suicide, explicit content, briefs moments of lewd content (might be others as I go along)
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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.Complete
For The Boy Who Doesn't Know
* Warning!: Small sexual and emotional abuse content* I huffed as I lay on my bed. Wanting to cry and scream, but feel numb at the same time. Keeping all my feelings in is not a great experience to have. I roll around hoping to find some comfortable position I can lay to think about this fully. I like him, but I shouldn't like him, but I wish I can be with him. That has been the story of my life for the past four years. I lay in my bed for a while. At this point, I can't keep this all in anymore. People always say to write your thoughts down, right? I got up, collected my keys and bag, and head out to the nearest store that sold cute journals. Once I found a journal that had "Say Something" on a grey cover I bought it along with a pack of pens and quickly went home. I was about to write the problems I was having now first, then decided against it and started all the way from the beginning when I first met him... ~~~ Part One in the Boys series. The first half of the book has very short chapters, but they get longer in the end.Complete
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