Just letting it out...
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- Parts 9
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Fri, Jul 18, 2014
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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Happy Endings
"Don't you see now why we can't be together?" I whispered at the crazy boy in front of me. "Aren't you repulsed by me? Disgusted? Dis interested? Can't you just tear my heart out and leave like any other normal teenage boy?" My voice cracked. He simply shook his head. "Sweetheart, I thought I made it clear from the first time I said it," He paused, "I. Like. You." He emphasized every word, and I gaped at him. "Hell of a lot, actually, so it'd be great if you stopped being salty and liked me back." "Don't you get it?" I whispered unbelievingly, "After all that, and you still don't get why I can't be with you?" He seemed relaxed, calm. Too calm for this situation. "My life doesn't involve a guy like you, Nathan. Never did. You're not my knight in shinning armor, and you aren't going to save me. This is reality, the real world. And the real world doesn't have happy endings." ---- To me, there's are six different types of crying. One; The Breakdown. Two; The Longing. Three; The Hysterical. Four; The Broken. Five; The Happy. Six; The Inevitable." ---- This short story is very depressing, I'm warning you now. It may trigger memories, or depression symptoms.Complete
Her Breaking Point
He had rules for a reason, or thats what he said. I did something wrong I got punished. I spoke out of turn, I got punished. I looked at him or ate without permission, I got punished. Haven thats what they named me funny isn't it? Ironic really. They named me Haven because my mom would say I was her 'Safe Haven'. What a pile of shit that was. She left willingly, she didn't depart because of some tragic accident. My father didn't kill her. She left because she was a coward who didn't want kids. As soon as my older brother went to college she left. I knew she hated me. I was the product of her love with another man. A constant reminder that her life didn't work out the way it was planned. He who ever he was is a phantom in its own. A deep rooted fantasy never going to come true. My brother left, my mother left, my grandma ignored, and my father broke. They let me give up hope on escaping and then decided to play hero. But I haven't forgotten everything I went through. Guilt consumes my brother but I don't care, you don't get to leave and then buy a reprieve of trying to save someone who has been dead for years. Besides lets just be honest I reached my breaking point long ago.Complete
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 - 01.06.2022Complete
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!Complete![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.Complete
Fix Me, I'm Broken
Walking into an empty house is normal to me. I guess I got tired of saying 'I'm home' when nobody is home to reply. It wasn't always like this. I remember when our family was close. Now we don't see each other any more. We don't talk to each other. We don't eat with each other. We don't ACKNOWLEDGE each other. This all happened after my 'Mother' killed herself. My father blames me. This is my story about how I learned to not count on anyone else but myself. I'm broken. I'm used. No one can fix me. But when the New Boy in town tries to fix me, everything will change. Good change or Bad change, I don't know. Only time will tell. I want to enter this story in the #Wattys2015 please help me out and vote and comment on my story. I'll really appreciate it!!! #Wattys2015 COPYRIGHTED © 2014 BY Anallely ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ®Complete
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 languageComplete
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.Complete
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 ~ DepressionComplete
Saved
"I've realized, over the past few years of high school, that people are like vampires. They suck your dignity, self-confidence, and your self-esteem right out of your body, like it's blood. They infect you with the poison of hatred, greed, and selfishness. You can't escape their venom, as it's always there, lurking in the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I've learned to deal with the sting of the bite, as it never goes away. I tried to not be infected, but the poison spreads like a wildfire, eating away at every inch of your body, until you disintegrate into nothing, and you're forgotten." 🏅achievements🏅 as of 12/30 - ranked #68 in suicideawareness as of 12/30 - ranked #888 in anxietyComplete
"Don't you see now why we can't be together?" I whispered at the crazy boy in front of me. "Aren't you repulsed by me? Disgusted? Dis interested? Can't you just tear my heart out and leave like any other normal teenage boy?" My voice cracked. He simply shook his head. "Sweetheart, I thought I made it clear from the first time I said it," He paused, "I. Like. You." He emphasized every word, and I gaped at him. "Hell of a lot, actually, so it'd be great if you stopped being salty and liked me back." "Don't you get it?" I whispered unbelievingly, "After all that, and you still don't get why I can't be with you?" He seemed relaxed, calm. Too calm for this situation. "My life doesn't involve a guy like you, Nathan. Never did. You're not my knight in shinning armor, and you aren't going to save me. This is reality, the real world. And the real world doesn't have happy endings." ---- To me, there's are six different types of crying. One; The Breakdown. Two; The Longing. Three; The Hysterical. Four; The Broken. Five; The Happy. Six; The Inevitable." ---- This short story is very depressing, I'm warning you now. It may trigger memories, or depression symptoms.
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