He saved us from the streets
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Pinwheels and Dandelions
I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.Complete
Wave (Book 2)
I had survived the first. That was then; this is now. The blindfold of so many pills slowly died away and first though my finger then my head, a passion, a hurt and a need filled me as every moment was consumed with words; every breath with wisps of ink. But they were not all captured and somewhere in the deep abyss of living, lies the unspoken, almost unfelt feelings of decades in months. This is the half-empty account off all those nights from December through into the new year and the end of March. ...I pains me to share it. But it also makes it just not my problem anymore and that is something I long for- freedom and peace. Please note that all grammatical and linguistic, as well as those in punctuation and spelling or placing of words were intentional. If you LIKE this and want me to write a commentary on each poem and picture (as in my previous collection Apfel), please show me in comments and votes :) PLEASE DO NOT COPY any of the poetry or pictures.Complete
Dead on Arrival - Resurrected by Grace
I love the beginnings of stories. Whether it be a book or a movie, I enjoy the opening scenes the most. Because they hold all the promises of what is to come; unburdened by commitment or baggage. Beginnings are full of hope. This story is an exception. Because the beginning of it is a sad one. It's the ending, however, that makes this story worthwhile. It's been several years since these events occurred and I have spent the majority of that time contemplating how best to share this story. Why? Because stories are important and everyone has one. This one is mine...Complete
Collide Book One:Unbelievable {Completed and Editing}
DESCRIPTION INSIDE!! :) © Copyright 2014 Mouna E. All Rights Reserved. { Please do not copy or duplicate any parts of the story. They are copyrighted. Thank you so much :D! Hope you all enjoy it! :) } **Story has not been edited yet,thank you.**Complete
Under these Stars
After her parents's accident, Delany shut her self from the world. She liked being in her safe, little bubble.. Mason, on the other hand, wanted to see that smiling, bubbly girl once more. He helped her sleep without nightmares and mended her broken self. Fast forward five years, they are strangers now. She doesn't talk to him, he doesn't talk to her. They're completely different. He's the bad boy who all the girls fawn over, and she's the girl who is simply there. And they're fine like that, even if they so happen to be neighbors and used to be childhood best friends. One night Mason crawls into her room, neck deep in trouble with no one to turn towards except her, and now she's the one helping him.Complete
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 .
you can't trust nobody . not even the man you slept withComplete
𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲
|𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲| /𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻/ 𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻'𝘀 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗳, 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗮 "𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹."Complete
Recurrence | 𝐰𝐥𝐰
𝐰𝐥𝐰 • 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐱𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝 • 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐱 --- When two ex-best friends are reunited, an obvious attraction has grown. For them to love each other would be wrong though...right? After all, they are opps by association. Maybe keeping their love hidden from their brothers who are beefing, will allow them to be together. Or maybe it will ruin everything, ending in chaos and causing hell. • • • 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞... - Mature/Strong Language - Mature Content (18+ Recommended) - Sex/Smut (Detailed) - Substances (Alcohol, drugs, etc) - Violence (Including weapons) - Other Possible Triggering Content REACHED: ----- #𝟏 in 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐱𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝 #𝟏 in 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐧 #𝟐𝟖 in 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲Complete
I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
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