WOMEN WHO ARE DIFFICULT TO WRITE ABOUT
- Lecturas 5
- Votos 1
- Partes 1
God grant me a wish to be alive for a day,
I am tired standing all day, all night like this,
I too am a woman, just in form of mannequin,
I wanna have a life to go out and see everything,
Few days later, when I had chance to be alive for a day,
God said me you can be alive for 24hours,
But oh! Remember if you feel disgusting,
You can be back at your place, I went out and saw disgrace in people's eyes,
I didn't mind and started to walk, tried crossing road with full speed vehicles coming around,
But unfortunately failed and fell on ground,few boys came laughing and started touching me,
As I still was a mannequin, my hands got separated and my clothes got torned,I cried and ran back to the shop,
Stood like a statue again,thought of this horrible world,
And now,
Felt happy as no one even touches or looks at me with disgust in eyes,
I am a woman in mannequin,who is difficult to talk about.
~ bansari.
Instagram handle=@_.thrillingarts._
Todos los derechos reservados
#75
writings
Únete a la comunidad narrativa más grandeObtén recomendaciones personalizadas de historias, guarda tus favoritas en tu biblioteca, y comenta y vota para hacer crecer tu comunidad.
Quizás también te guste
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.Concluida
Trapped
I watched as he walks closer to me making take a step back, his green eyes has darken and filled with rage I continue to step back but was soon stopped by the wall I started to tremble in fear. " Wanna say that again love?" He says towering over me, I couldn't speak I opened my mouth but nothing came out he was going to hurt me " Love.. I don't like to repeat myself I'm not a very patient man but if you don't give me an answer there is going to be blood on this floor and it's not going to be mine" he says calmly I couldn't hold back tears no more "You can't just come and own me like some piece of property!" I sobbed looking everywhere else but him I spoke up again " I'm not yours and never will be-" I was cut of by a hand gripping around my neck lifting me off the ground my hands immediately started trying to pull off his hand around my neck, but he didn't budge. " who said you had a choice" he says looking deep into my eyes, I slowly felt my throat closing up I tried harder to get his hand away but he was too strong I started to get less and less air "I'm going to say this once so listen close" my lungs start to burn as he leans in my ear " you're mine and mine only " He says before dropping me onto the ground I fell on my knees breathing greedily for air..... Alani Jones has a terrible past that is wanted to keep in the dark but that doesn't last when she finds out that her best friend's brother, has his eye on her, weather she likes it or not she is his and no one can tell him different.
GOD'S EYE
I lived out of a van and wherever the wheels took me was my home. I danced with drunkards at the local country bar and I smoked cigarettes, staining them with my black cherry lipstick. I always had my head in the clouds, because I was a free spirit; my spirit was pure and I lived one day at a time. I was a lonely poet, constantly seeking for more but failing to put it in the right words. I knew that he was the one for me, from the very moment that I set my eyes on him. He was the kind of man I pictured to take my innocence. His tall and strong build made my small one feel safe around him, as if he were a shield from all the terrible things that the world could throw at me. Those big hands of his, God, I could imagine just the pleasure they could bring to me. The fact that he drank green tea, read the newspaper every dawn, that salt 'n' pepper hair of his, those aged lines on his face- he was like art; to me, he transcended poetry. I wore my emotions on my sleeves and he saw right through me, as he did with every other person. He read me like he did those words on the front page of his newspapers, but I didn't care. I wanted him to be my hero and I wanted to belong to him. I wanted him to take me in his arms and whisk me away, strip me of every bit of innocence even if it ruined me. It's true what they say, 'be careful what you wish for'. I hadn't known that a man like him was no saviour, even though he had warned me, I was in too deep already, too naïve and too in love with what I saw- that I had no idea the ruin that lay ahead as Massimiliano Esposito's woman. Poetry- as it had for all other great poets- led me to my destruction.Concluida
soft clouds, crystal skies
❝𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦? 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳? 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺? 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺?❞ ˜"*°•˜"*°•˜"*°• light filters through the windows you've shut. where have you found yourself lately? come with me and together, we will watch the sky. we will watch how stars move across it. we will see how far the clouds travel before they fade. together, we will see soft rain and crystal days. until we find what we're looking for. ˜"*°•˜"*°•˜"*°• - completed - all graphics are made by me - cream caramel poetry series #5 © sofiya v. 2021Concluida
Obsessively In Love
WARNING MATURE CONTENT: MENTION OF GRAPHIC CONTENT ABUSE, MURDER, THE USE OF DRUGS WITH MATURE LANGUAGE AND MATURE SCENES. VIEWERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED 18+ Daisy Romana has spent years building a quiet, careful life-one where she can stay invisible, keep her past buried, and help the broken people who walk into her therapy office. She knows how to manage chaos. She knows how to keep boundaries. She knows how to stay safe. Until Lorenzo Rossi walks in. Tattooed, unreadable, and radiating danger from the moment he sits down, Lorenzo is nothing like her other patients. He doesn't flinch. He doesn't apologize. He doesn't pretend to be anything other than what he is-lethal, controlled, and far too aware of her. Daisy knows better than to let him get close. She knows better than to let him touch her. She definitely knows better than to let him kiss her. But one reckless moment shatters every rule she's ever lived by. Now Daisy is entangled with a man who kills without remorse, a man whose past is soaked in blood, a man who was never supposed to want her-and who refuses to let her go. As her career crumbles, her family turns against her, and her carefully constructed life collapses, Daisy is forced to confront the truth: Lorenzo isn't just dangerous. He's obsessed. And the deeper she falls into his world, the more she realizes that loving him might cost her everything-her job, her freedom, and maybe even her life. But walking away from him? That might be the one thing she can't survive. A dark, addictive therapist‑patient romance where obsession blurs into devotion, and one forbidden touch ignites a chain of consequences neither of them can escape. DISCLAIMER- The photos in this book no not belong to me. I got them from google and Pinterest!!Concluida
Waves of Poems🌊⚔️💙
I Am a poet and writer, Free Flowing 💧Thoughter 🤔!!!. Sharing my random writings, creativity and layers of perspectives. I'm not a rapper I'm a writer ✍🏿😁series of poems, raps and random writings I wrote over the years (the good the bad n ugly). Pieces of Me. Some read like poems some read rhythmic or like with a melody. When I write something I feel interesting or thought/heart provoking I share 🤷🏾♂️ I try to make a conscious effort to only share positive my notebooks are something else 🙈🙃 updated regularly. Rider of my own wave🏄🏿♂️ 🌊🌊🌊 build your own pyramids write your own hieroglyphs!!! Art is Art!!!💧God is the Greatest Artist!!!🙏🏿Concluida
"THE ONE" {poetry.passion}
Date: 16.04.2020 Poetry is my passion and my pleasure. I write the verses either English or Urdu; whenever I got a specific mood 😋 This is the collection of some of my creativeness.... I hope you LIKE it or maybe LOVE it(who knows) ... 😍😎Concluida
Amore.
This is a series of short stories, poems and thoughts I've written over the years, compiled into this collection. Most of these were written years ago. Some I've written as early as this year (2025). The purpose of this volume is to feel. Feel everything as though you are the main character experiencing each emotion expressed through my writing. These are written through my perspective as a woman, but please let this resonate with you regardless of your identity. Please vote, comment, like and share. Thank you! - nhiamareConcluida
LET ME WALK YOU TO JANNAH
Some people never experience peace Their pain never ease Maybe their peace is the next world Maybe for them it's the life after death ***** You were nothing but a test on my path To win or lose was trying my worth You couldn't hear the words my heart spoke Each day with knife my heart you poke **** Seeing you the way you are is a pain Together everything I want us to gain For you my heart I will place in a plate To hold your hand I will never be late The tears you will no longer shed Forever we will stay the newlywed **** "Why? Why me? Don't you see am crippled." I asked with tears blinding my vision. "The heart doesn't need reasons to love. My heart was searching until it found yours. I can't hold it anymore, this heart is not big enough to contain all that love. Love must be shared and I want you to be my half. I know what you have been through. I know accepting me isn't easy on your part. A chance is all I need my love." ***** Not your typical love story. Witness some heartbreaks Witness some wounds heal Rank #17 of 6.7k duaConcluida
Diavolo
She hated him as much as he wanted her, a thorn in her side ever since they met, and it had only gotten worse with each lingering gaze between them. As an aspiring journalist, Presley didn't believe in love-or lasting romantic relationships of any kind. The last thing she needed in her whirlwind of life was to get involved with her best's friends bodyguard-or rather the head of the Cosa Nostra. A man with little use of manners and secrets in his past. Tall, handsome and covered with tattoos, a living and breathing hazard with a cold nature and quiet demeanor. A beautiful monster dressed in leather jackets, and tight fitting shirts. A made man. Silvio had ever met a woman like her, who spent every minute glaring at him. One who he was consumed to touch despite his dislike for touch. A stubborn femme fatale with soft brown eyes and obsidian curls. A woman he'd been trying to resist for a long time. When a threat from her past lands her into the very arms of her nemesis and into a fake relationship, she's forced to get to know him and suddenly, their fake relationship feels more real than anything she had ever own. - preview - God, it felt right like this was where it belonged-this was where I belonged. And she felt it too, given by the slight rush of her breathing, and dazed eyes. There was always this magnetic pull and tug between us, so irresistible and consuming. "Silvio." She let out a small gasp, obviously not expecting me to touch her, and it burned. Everything right now burned but it felt good. Almost in an addicting way like the pain crossed the threshold and soared to become another feeling. "I don't think this is a good idea." "You want me to stop right now, say it but this is a damn good idea." I said in a gruff voice. "Tell me you don't want this, tell me it's a bad idea and I'll stop."Concluida
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.
Más detallesPautas de Contenido