Her & her
- LECTURES 491
- Votes 5
- Chapitres 29
Contenu pour adultesTerminé jeu., sept. 30, 202155m
An intimate look into my journey from the perfect Catholic girl with internalized homophobia to a girl who is almost okay with her queer identity.
Features poems on my journey of self-discovery and acceptance through my struggles with mental health, toxic relationships, and queer identity written from 2016- 2020. Features many heavy themes such as self-harm, depression, and suicide, please read with care.
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Poems (collection 1.0)
please don't read this (i laugh here, but i'm not joking). this is a relic. consider this the museum of my progression in writing. you can find the better (marginally) stuff from this one in "Poems (collection 2.0)". Thoughtful, often sad, and angry poems. It's an outlet. A way to be heard. Not genius; only jumbled messes of the multitude of my thoughts fighting their way out of my brain. There's so much I want to say, but not enough time to say it. Here are my attempts.Terminé
broken wings
deep down everyone has secrets , deep down everyone is in pain. some people are just better at hiding it or feel like pain is okay. a girl who seems happy and a guy who can read her like a book pass ways just In this book. tears and joy ,cries and hugs. everything will be okay if she just would have one good luck. But that's not what she cared about, all she wanted was to run away from home, but that grip of her father won't leave her alone . Will he save her fast enough? Or will he help alone not be enough ? - - - " where were you? " " w-what? " " i walked past your class, I was going to walk you to lunch, I wanted t- uhm but you weren't there." " uh I left earlier because I needed to go to the bathroom." " no, I had free period I was waiting on you there the whole time. " Disclaimers 🛑 This isn't a fantasy book This is my first book so I am not the greatest Warnings ⚠️ ⚠️ selfharm, suicide, rape, abuse, death, child lossTerminé
how life is worth it
!trigger warning! like a journal when i want to express my feelings in words when i feel terrible when i want to hurt someone like myself !self-harm talk and suicide is mentioned often!Terminé
Metaphors from Mars (Poetry)
Mars: a symbol of conflict, desire, and passion Disclaimer: This "collection" is an archive of poetry and various ramblings from my teenage years. All poems were written between 2016-2024. Please enjoy the thoughts from last 8 years of my life.Terminé
Depressing Poetry
I write these poems when I hit my low points I hope if anyone reads this you enjoy
We're Broken People
Maybe you don't know it yet, maybe you haven't noticed it, maybe you haven't felt it. But all of us, are broken somewhere on the inside. We've all been sad at one point or another, or depressed, or lonely. We've all been broken. ______________ Just a collection of short stories and poems by a sad teenager.Terminé
Nobody's girl
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THERAPY (excerpt)
Sometimes you have to get lost in order to be found... I'm needy. I'm broken. Cutting breaks through my numbness, but only opens more wounds. Depression, bullying, self-harm...that's my reality. Sex and guys...my escape. The space between the truth and lies is blurred leaving me torn, lost and confused. And while the monsters that live in my head try to beat me--the two men that I love try to save me. This is my story of friendship, heartache and the grueling journey that is mental-illness.Terminé
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 ~ DepressionTerminé
The Pain is all worth it.
My imperfect journey of maintaining God in our lives.Terminé
please don't read this (i laugh here, but i'm not joking). this is a relic. consider this the museum of my progression in writing. you can find the better (marginally) stuff from this one in "Poems (collection 2.0)". Thoughtful, often sad, and angry poems. It's an outlet. A way to be heard. Not genius; only jumbled messes of the multitude of my thoughts fighting their way out of my brain. There's so much I want to say, but not enough time to say it. Here are my attempts.
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