My writting Palette
- LECTURAS 176
- Votos 31
- Partes 6
Etiquetaswriting
the pen which paints,
the pen which dreams,
the pen which feels,
the pen which creates,
Welcome to my writing palette.
A place where I pour out anything in my mind and slash it across a white blank page, filling it with my emotions creations and my dreams.
its a place where i can truly be accepted, loved and cherished.
its a place where i dont care about anything but just pouring out my thoughts.
No Borders, No Restrictions, No Rules
but
freedom
Todos los derechos reservados
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Everything I Bottled Up
I've failed to genuinely express myself for most of my life, but that finally ends here. This is everything I've bottled up, kept hidden, and should've said. Ranked: #4 in poems #24 in poetrycollection #3 in writings #19 in prose #6 in self-loveConcluida
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.Concluida
Behind the smile
My pen is my release It's an orgasm to my soul -A collection of poetry and articles about my personal experience with depression.Concluida
Thoughts and Constellations
A year full of ups and downs, written down to make someone, somewhere feel something. This is my personal journal published for the world to see. All my thoughts and feelings for a year. It has no plot. It has no ending. It just ends. Good luck trying to understand it because I don't even understand it myself. Enjoy the mind of a fifteen year old girl, unedited.Concluida
Who knows how to think anymore? Or even what to think? With all the confusion around me, I decided to grab a pen and just let it run
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