Just letting it out...
- Leituras 40
- Votos 0
- Capítulos 9
Tagsdepression
This, isn't what most people like to read, but I happen not to be ' most people ' in fact, there are a bunch of people who are like me. I know, at least six or more, just right off the top of my head. When I'm depressed, which is a never ending thing, I write poems. They help, well they help me of course. I had never really found anything that worked for me, you know, such as coping skills? When I was in the whacky shack ( mental hospital ) I couldn't find a coping skill that worked for me... But now, all of a sudden, after months & months, after being home from the whacky shack, I found my coping skill, that actually works. I spill my heart out, as I type faster then a mad women. My life, is depression. My life, goes from 8 years of being bullied, to rape, to etc.. My life, is, unfortunately not a fun road to walk on, but sit back, & enjoy ! I hope you like my poems! :D
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Elizabeth
Some things are never meant to happen the way that they happen. Some things are not supposed to break the way they break, but we are not in charge of this earth. We cannot oversee how things are fixed and how they break. We are only capable of putting the pieces back together...mending broken hearts and healing empty souls. Why him? They ask her constantly. Why the heartless man to comfort the hurting soul? Because, she always responds, even after countless mood swings, crazy demands, constant reassurance, and stupid arguments, he never gave up on her. Why her? They would ask her every time. He'd respond the same. Because I don't want to court her in bed. I want to love her in life. Polar opposites attract. Elizabeth and Romeo attract. They just want to love each other in life through the pain, the agony, the abuse, the depression, the anxiety, the mafia, the breaking, the fixing, the helping, the hurting. It's just love at the end of the day.Concluída![The Trouble with Trust [COMPLETED]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/240554796-256-k368525.jpg)
The Trouble with Trust [COMPLETED]
I'm about to tell you a story about a girl. A normal girl. A girl that had no cares in the world, until her trust for it was stripped away. When you read her story, you'll find yourself trusting her, loving her, rooting for her. But you see, not everyone gets to trust the world. Not everyone has a happy ending. --- Halfway through the kiss however, his attitude changed; instead of being a loving embrace, it became a fierce trap. His grip on her waist tightened, trapped her where she was instead of simply holding her where he wanted her. The hand in her hair grabbed a section of it, enforcing his demand for her not to go anywhere. Before she knew what was happening, he left go of her hair, and pushed her to the ground. She gasped, suddenly able to breathe. He stood up and walked over to her. He placed a soft hand on her cheek, just like he used to when he was telling her how special she was to him. None of the emotion was there this time however, all she could feel radiating from his was rage. "You shouldn't have run off, babe," he said bitterly. "I was about to show you how much I loved you. Instead, I now have to show you what happens when you anger me." --- The men regarded her, before she was shoved to the ground and one produced a whip. There, laying broken on the floor, as the other girls watched, she was whipped. Slowly, she felt her skin breaking in time with her heart and her will.Concluída
Thoughts of a Juvenile
Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.Concluída
Someone New ✓
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboardConcluída
Tethered By Lust
It's not worth it anymore. The fighting, the hurt, the beatings. It was never going to be worth it. But for love...well love makes you stupid. And I loved him with all my heart. I met the real man who would save me. Like how Bell was saved from Gaston. Except she lived the high life and didn't fear for her existence after her first encounter. After my first encounter with Axel, and a dreamy one-night stand. The only option for me was to stay away from him and keep to Marcus. But Marcus is destroying me. *** "Don't you dare tell me how easy it is to leave and abusive relationship when you've never been in one, Axel!" Tears poured down my cheeks and all I wanted to do in that moment was crawl into the same hole I should never have crawled out from and die. "And I was heartbroken, and scared and anxious. I was worried and I felt weak, and I had no idea how I was ever going to come up with the strength. But I just closed my eyes and took a blind leap. I found you, Cordilia and I'll be dammed if I let that asshole take you away from me."Concluída
words don't come that easy.
I've tried. but i've always failed to contain these thousand words in a few sentences, maybe im bad at expressing macro feelings in the few words that I'm limited to. you might think you know me enough because it's been a long time since i first waved at you and the love for the same artist started our very first conversation, but even i haven't discovered the colors of my existence yet, so why do you claim that you have? you think you've already uncovered the secrets and seen the scars and the marks and reached the origin of every preserved artifact in the treasures that i've kept hidden over the years but there's so much more that you would never even hear of. i've chosen to show you everything as a part of a happy story but will you ever know this? which words were rewritten and omitted out and which words are the part of the organic script which fits perfectly into the timeline. have you figured out yet who's the real director of my story? there's so much more to me than you think there is. poetry and prose and everything in between. 26.10.2021 - 01.06.2022Concluída
Trash Book of Extra.
Warning: I am a weirdo. This will contain some thoughts of mine, some poems, some deep shit, some thoughts I have as I go through the journey of self-exploration, lmao. Some chapters may be seen as too controversial but whatever you know. I mean, reading this is your choice. You don't have to. I mean, I'd like you all to read every chapter but it's not a story book so you may skip some chapters you don't like and read the ones that you do like. P.S. I do not deny that my thoughts are somewhat influenced by my environment and experiences. Also, this is the real me. Some people think I'm quiet and cold-hearted but on the inside I'm actually a big softie with feelings. To be honest, it's kinda my fault since I hate revealing my emotions to other people or even asking for help until I have to. And even then, I start hating myself for being such a weakling. That is a major character flaw of mine that I must overcome!Concluída
Cold Water
[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ DepressionConcluída
Tumor Love
Sometimes life don't go the way we planned. Sometimes we end up feeling so low, and alone. Like we're in a dark hole with no one around us, but then suddenly there's a light at the end of the tunnel. And I guess what I'm trying to say is.. You're my light, the one who helped me through the worst time in my life - And for that, I am thankful. I'm thankful that I met you, but I also hate you. I hate what you did to me, because you made me fall in love.. And then my world fell apart once again. [WARNING!! Contains mature themes, and languageConcluída
Sad Girl Clapback *Now Available in Amazon*
*PUBLISHED as 'Tired of Being Tired, Sick of Being Sad' by Azia To *now on amazon* This is the book I wish I had when I was 12, 13, 14 and growing up until I was 20. It's the stuff I wish I told my high school self. *** This is how I feel - these are my thoughts. They're funny. They're a bit weird. They're extremely honest. And I will not be apologetic about any of this (Sorry - I'm not trying to give Canadians a bad rep here but...). All these short essays are raw and mean a lot to me. This is me handing you a key to my home, and for you to explore the parts that I have built and things that I have picked up along my journeys. You may find that my home may look a lot like yours. It's funny how we find parts of ourselves in the people we meet. Make yourself comfortable. Have a seat. Welcome. *** A collection of funny essays about hurting, loving, and healing as a teenage girl in 2018.Concluída
Some things are never meant to happen the way that they happen. Some things are not supposed to break the way they break, but we are not in charge of this earth. We cannot oversee how things are fixed and how they break. We are only capable of putting the pieces back together...mending broken hearts and healing empty souls. Why him? They ask her constantly. Why the heartless man to comfort the hurting soul? Because, she always responds, even after countless mood swings, crazy demands, constant reassurance, and stupid arguments, he never gave up on her. Why her? They would ask her every time. He'd respond the same. Because I don't want to court her in bed. I want to love her in life. Polar opposites attract. Elizabeth and Romeo attract. They just want to love each other in life through the pain, the agony, the abuse, the depression, the anxiety, the mafia, the breaking, the fixing, the helping, the hurting. It's just love at the end of the day.
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