Panorama

Reads 73
Votes 1
Parts 6
Time 8m

Reads 73
Votes 1
Parts 6
Time 8m

life loneliness lost melancholy rain rants sadness thoughts thoughtsandfeelings

Sleepless nights, rants, thoughts, emotions-I covet for answers from the land of bafflement I'm in.

Another wallflower, bamboozled.All Rights Reserved

life loneliness lost melancholy rain rants sadness thoughts thoughtsandfeelings

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❝as if.❞ ⤷in which this isn't poetry but leftover sadness. [poetry] {completed} (#135 in poetry 12/27/17)

From my mind, to the page, with some editing in between. Thoughts, rants, blurb etc.

You might ask yourself: "what is OCD? Why is it so important to write about for this girl?" Well.. I'll answer questions... I'll tell you how my life is with OCD... because you know why? It is so hard to explain to people what it's like. What I deal with. How I deal with it. What it truly is like.. A Small Blog about random stuff going on.

Just a little sha-bang of how life can feel so very...hollow. There's also plenty on the social sciences that I discuss if you're into that kind of stuff. I suppose I'd just like for someone to learn something valuable or eye-opening from all this, so I do hope you'll be thinking deeply about the lessons that I aim to teach.

These are the words that my fingers write and my heart cries when my mouth can't speak.

This isn't a story, its not a fairy tale, its nothing but what goes through my head and what makes me... me? There is no happy ending, just life's ups and downs. Ranting and venting, things I can't tell people face to face. These are the silenced cries for help that rattle through my head. Waiting for someone to listen.

a shitty compilation of my thoughts from taiwan, my temporary home.

the human emotions

-ʀᴀᴍʙʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟᴜɴᴀᴛɪᴄ. //POETRY. (I was 13 writing this)

This is where I let everything out-the chaos, the silence, the things I can't say out loud. It doesn't judge, doesn't ask why, doesn't need explanations. It just exists, ready to catch whatever spills from my mind, whether it's broken pieces or fleeting moments of joy. It feels like talking to someone who's always there but never speaks, just listens-and somehow, that's enough.

truce » poetry

❝as if.❞ ⤷in which this isn't poetry but leftover sadness. [poetry] {completed} (#135 in poetry 12/27/17)

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