idk if i can call this poetry
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  • Parts 200
  • Time 1h 27m
  • Reads 1,342
  • Votes 215
  • Parts 200
  • Time 1h 27m
Ongoing, First published Jul 06, 2020
book 2

this started out as just writing down my thoughts. 
poems, quotes and other random stuff. 
thats what this was supposed to be. 

instead, it had become a diary. 
a journal, almost. 

this is long lost lovers. 
this is heartbreak. 
this is one sided communication. 
this is transformation. 
this is growth. 
this is missing you. 
this is fucked up. 
this is a void. 

but every void must end somewhere....

right?

ill keep screaming at nothing. 
if you cant hear me,

maybe someone will. 


maybe someday ill reach you. 
maybe someday ill see you again. 


someday, i will see you again. 

this is for you. 

this is the beginning,
this will be the end. 


...


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Release by FeelMyBreath
191 parts Complete Mature
This is a collection of my writing from the past 7 years. Before I started to write, I was a very lost individual, as are most teens, but I was lost in darkness. I was too afraid to move anywhere at all. I hid in the dark, debilitated by my own anxiety, sadnesses, anger, and hopelessness. I was desperate to be loved and feared it the most, I was a coward, I was self-destructive, I would mentally bend my thoughts to the point of bordering insanity. I was born into this world alone, and got too comfortable with it. Maybe I still am, but a fraction of what I used to be. This writing is extremely vulnerable, and potentially disturbing to others, as all my weaknesses, strengths, obsessions with making every moment sentimental, the sickening desperation I've had, the destructiveness, and the constant brutal reconstruction of my mind. Without guidance, it's been absolute intense chaos. Though, there is beauty in the darkness. Everything can be found in the darkness. You'll find that through my writing, I've somehow slowly become exactly what I've written. A living representation of my writing and what I wanted to be. Without myself even knowing it. A lot of my writing themes are based around nature, or some kind of natural aspect. The imagery I paint with natural metaphors is constant, the animals, just like you and I, the plants, and all other living things. I planted these seeds in my mind, unknowingly at the time, where I now feel the deep dark green jungle pressing at the inner walls of my skull. It's all that I want to consume my mind. There's so much to learn. The magic of nature, and it's infinite wisdom. It's as if I have been on this path all along, and I didn't even know what I was doing, yet my body and mind were passively taking care of me. Giving me and eventually showing exactly what I want, and wanted to become. I have every moment, every instance of suffering, and every epiphany to be thankful for. Soon, I'll be at peace from the raging storm.
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Too Many Maybe's

7 parts Complete Mature

I used to think there'd be no living without you. Then, you walked away. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. We finally stopped making sense to you. So, you left. Why wouldn't you. It didn't matter that it still made sense to me. That I still held on to all those what ifs and unanswered questions of us. Still hoped for things to work out somehow. Still needed things to work out. Needed it like food and water. This story might not make much sense to you, reader. It was written for him. And in many ways for myself. But I am grateful for your desire to explore our life's tale non the less. It was quite something. I hope you'll get something out of it.