Story cover for Need by exemo6969
Need
  • WpView
    Reads 39
  • WpVote
    Votes 11
  • WpPart
    Parts 3
  • WpHistory
    Time <5 mins
  • WpView
    Reads 39
  • WpVote
    Votes 11
  • WpPart
    Parts 3
  • WpHistory
    Time <5 mins
Ongoing, First published Apr 06, 2019
Mature
(POETRY)

Perhaps the only way that we can truly express ourselves is through the invisible vents in our fingertips-the ones our words pour out of like floodwater through a sewer drain; like sunlight through blinds.

STARTED: JUN 3 
ENDED: N/A

TRIGGER WARNING: DARK THEMES

FINAL WORD COUNT: N/A
All Rights Reserved
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Release by FeelMyBreath
191 parts Complete Mature
This is a collection of my writing from the past 7 years. Before I started to write, I was a very lost individual, as are most teens, but I was lost in darkness. I was too afraid to move anywhere at all. I hid in the dark, debilitated by my own anxiety, sadnesses, anger, and hopelessness. I was desperate to be loved and feared it the most, I was a coward, I was self-destructive, I would mentally bend my thoughts to the point of bordering insanity. I was born into this world alone, and got too comfortable with it. Maybe I still am, but a fraction of what I used to be. This writing is extremely vulnerable, and potentially disturbing to others, as all my weaknesses, strengths, obsessions with making every moment sentimental, the sickening desperation I've had, the destructiveness, and the constant brutal reconstruction of my mind. Without guidance, it's been absolute intense chaos. Though, there is beauty in the darkness. Everything can be found in the darkness. You'll find that through my writing, I've somehow slowly become exactly what I've written. A living representation of my writing and what I wanted to be. Without myself even knowing it. A lot of my writing themes are based around nature, or some kind of natural aspect. The imagery I paint with natural metaphors is constant, the animals, just like you and I, the plants, and all other living things. I planted these seeds in my mind, unknowingly at the time, where I now feel the deep dark green jungle pressing at the inner walls of my skull. It's all that I want to consume my mind. There's so much to learn. The magic of nature, and it's infinite wisdom. It's as if I have been on this path all along, and I didn't even know what I was doing, yet my body and mind were passively taking care of me. Giving me and eventually showing exactly what I want, and wanted to become. I have every moment, every instance of suffering, and every epiphany to be thankful for. Soon, I'll be at peace from the raging storm.
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𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺

22 parts Ongoing

MELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK ON AMAZON UNDER 'MELANCHOLIC MUSE' BY MAY GARNER This melancholy drips from my fingertips so slowly, you begin to forget I even exist. All of me, the hard parts of flesh you could never seem to love, drips down the drain. I am waiting for the day for your fingers to unscrew the pipes, dig through debris and mess, scrape your heart against the rust, just to find me, so we can go through it all over again. Here, in the pages I find myself, in the ink that writes against my flesh, I will whisper the sadness, the heartache, and the decaying for all of the unspoken. Perhaps under this layer of melancholy, the girl I once knew still exists.    First poetry collection in the series. Original poems based off real life experiences. #12 in poetry. Cover template made by @KaleidoGraphix on Canva. 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 copyright © May Garner. 2017. All Rights Reserved.