lost words - AvocadoBaby323 - Wattpad

Story cover for lost words by AvocadoBaby323

lost words

LECTURES 159
Votes 6
Chapitres 48
Durée 25m

LECTURES 159
Votes 6
Chapitres 48
Durée 25m

If only you knew
how you bring us to tears.
I have since learned that
you enjoy feeding off our fears.
If only you knew
how millions of your victims felt.
And as I finally
found the courage, I knelt.
Looking upon the graves
of the long lost souls,
never having a chance
to make themselves whole.
You stole that from them,
and shattered the proof.
And now we live in an era
where our minds become aloof.
Starting at a young age,
you tear us down.
And we are sick and tired
of you throwing us around
So fuck you,
and your corrupt ways.
And stop making
my friends your prey.
~For the MonstersTous Droits Réservés

Table des matières

48 chapitres

Inscrivez-vous pour ajouter lost words à votre bibliothèque et recevoir les mises à jour

ou

Directives de Contenu

Vous aimerez aussi

Letters For You, écrit par alexeboileau

This is going to be weird. At first at least. I haven't talked to you in over a year, but the teacher said we should use this diary to express our emotions and the only one I could ever be one hundred percent honest with is you. Those letters to you are worth 25% of my final grade so I must find some interesting things to talk to you about. It's going to be good for me too. It'll help me move on. Help me live my life again. I just hope that it will get easier because for now, just imagining talking to you every week brings it all back, all those feelings. I still hope that, one day, you will read those letters for real. That they won't just be a way to keep you in my mind. I'm not stupid, I know that you will never read them but imagining that you will helps me write what I really want to say. So this is for you, I hope you will enjoy. With all my love, Emily

Me Without You, écrit par kccdrw

Shock. Once the shock wore off, I was confused. Then angry. You made me so angry because I felt betrayed by your choice. Your choice to leave me, leave me all alone in this dark world. I felt so angry and betrayed by your choice to desert me when you were all I had. Then I accepted the fact that you were no longer here because that's just how it was and how it had to be. I had to learn to accept the fact that life was now me without you and that was a damn hard pill to swallow.

Thoughts of a Juvenile , écrit par jyfvjhtv

Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.

Fix Me, I'm Broken, écrit par Ana11e1y

Walking into an empty house is normal to me. I guess I got tired of saying 'I'm home' when nobody is home to reply. It wasn't always like this. I remember when our family was close. Now we don't see each other any more. We don't talk to each other. We don't eat with each other. We don't ACKNOWLEDGE each other. This all happened after my 'Mother' killed herself. My father blames me. This is my story about how I learned to not count on anyone else but myself. I'm broken. I'm used. No one can fix me. But when the New Boy in town tries to fix me, everything will change. Good change or Bad change, I don't know. Only time will tell. I want to enter this story in the #Wattys2015 please help me out and vote and comment on my story. I'll really appreciate it!!! #Wattys2015 COPYRIGHTED Â© 2014 BY Anallely ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Â®

Society, Me and Life: The Truth, écrit par idkhttybimysm

You have a right to feel the way you do. You have a right to keep things private or to share and speak about these experiences to others. No matter what you choose, it is your decision to make. However, do not let your fear dismiss the truth. Do not believe the lies you constantly tell yourself to ignore the pain you are feeling. Do not let the sum of someone else's trauma silence you.

Walking Into Black, écrit par Euphedra

Don't fear death. It does nothing for you. Death is at every turn; the challenge is if you choose to accept it or not. Don't fear pain. Pain is how you learn. Pain is the side-effect of life. If you live life fearing getting hurt...can you truly live life fully? I've felt pain. I've accepted death. I've lived, I've learned, I've drowned a few times. If all I have to show for it is small bundles of letters and words...so be it. That's more than I could have ever hoped for. Everything that means anything to me are just words. You can put anything into words. Anything and everything. You can put death into words. You can put pain into words. You can put fear into words. And I have. And you can read them, if you want. You can learn from them; learn to stop fearing, learn to stop living in the future, behind your mask. But only if you care enough to listen. I speak loud and clear, yet nobody can hear me. I am not hidden, yet nobody can find me. If they even try.

Release, écrit par FeelMyBreath

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.

Poetry Of a Convoluted Mind, écrit par RayaMay7

This is a small collection of poems that I have compiled over the years starting at age 15 stemming from my own personal experiences and observations of the world around me. I am hoping in the future for this to become a book. Trigger warning mentions of suicide, attempting suicide, self harm, addiction, OD, hanging, child abuse, depression, bullying, and psychological torture.

I don't understand you anymore..., écrit par CherryGirl19

** Trigger Warning ** • Disclaimer: All messages & names have been changed & adapted. This is a novel based on creating awareness for bullying and mental health issues • So you think a best friend is trustworthy. You think you can tell all your secrets to them? You think you can tell some of problems to? You think they'll want to speak you? You think you can be honest with them? Poppy and Livi were best friends at school but when Livi left. That all changed. Everything a best friend is suppose to do, became something of the past. Well with Livi anyway... Livi manipulated, controlled, degraded, blamed and insulted Poppy. Livi also played victim, to make Poppy feel bad. Livi always wanted to be right. Livi wanted power & control. Poppy was alone. Alone & self destructing. This is a timeline of events and story of self acceptance. A story of healing.

Vous aimerez aussi

Slide 1 of 9

Letters For You cover

Me Without You cover

Thoughts of a Juvenile cover

Fix Me, I'm Broken cover

Society, Me and Life: The Truth cover

Walking Into Black cover

Poetry Of a Convoluted Mind cover

I don't understand you anymore... cover

Letters For You

This is going to be weird. At first at least. I haven't talked to you in over a year, but the teacher said we should use this diary to express our emotions and the only one I could ever be one hundred percent honest with is you. Those letters to you are worth 25% of my final grade so I must find some interesting things to talk to you about. It's going to be good for me too. It'll help me move on. Help me live my life again. I just hope that it will get easier because for now, just imagining talking to you every week brings it all back, all those feelings. I still hope that, one day, you will read those letters for real. That they won't just be a way to keep you in my mind. I'm not stupid, I know that you will never read them but imagining that you will helps me write what I really want to say. So this is for you, I hope you will enjoy. With all my love, Emily