The Dreamer With The Sad Eyes

The Dreamer With The Sad Eyes

  • WpView
    Reads 30
  • WpVote
    Votes 0
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
WpMetadataReadOngoing7m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Aug 11, 2021
The Dreamer with the sad eyes is a story about me and my life and everything I've been through. As a person in the hopes you can learn from my story and not do the things I made the mistake of doing. TW: mentions of Bullying/ Depression/ Suicide/ Self harm/ eating disorders/ alcohol and drugs. Don't read this if you get triggered easily. But if you do want to read this there will be trigger warnings at the start and end of the triggering sections.
All Rights Reserved
#377
thisisme
WpChevronRight
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • My Poetry Escape
  • Not Seeing The Obvious (NSTO)
  • All The Things I Could Have Told Her
  • Surviving You
  • Invisible Pain
  • Love Gaze [BxB] | ✔️
  • Love at Last Sight
  • Skin. Blade. Blood. (FINISHED)
  • Broken

I may just be a girl. No one special. Nothing compared to others. In the eyes of the universe, I am just a little speck of dust. My light may not shine very bright, and it may not be of any use, but I am me. Writing is my only escape out of this world. I cry rivers of ink and climb mountains of words. I may not write as well as others, but my writing is just a different style. They're my feelings. I really do hope you can connect to some of the work in here. Please, do not copy any of this work without informing me first. Thank you! "My Escape" I have a supply, In the closet near my bed, Of past memories, Hanging by a thread. A thread, Connected to my mind, That thread, Just follows me around. I have a hole, In the middle of my heart, That hole fills up, When someone's torn apart. I have a tear, Accompanying my lonely eye, Knowing, whenever I'm alone, I can sit in a corner and cry. Even though, These things are there, I still have ink, a notebook, and a pen, To care. I write and write, To my heart's desire, New feelings erupt, By the hour. Writing is, My one escape, In this cruel and careless world, I have the power, to awake. "A Story Without Words" A story told, In a little tune, A golden smile, And a shining tear, Rolling down my cheek. A little breeze, The nice sun, A marvelous day, Turned into a wet one. The memories dripped, Down on my cotton white shirt, Leaving stains, On my malicious heart. Your smile, Worth a thousand words, Can't cheer up This depressive mind. A storm bewildered, Your indecisive mind, Drowning me, In my reckless thoughts. A rainy day, A gleaming lie, A story not told, With words Nor sounds. This story is, But a mere thought, In this universe We share, Every night. This story is, A withering storm, Drifting off, In this careless soul. This story is, Not told with sounds, But a never ending blow, Of swirling emotions, Bottled up inside.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines