My 4ams

My 4ams

LECTURAS 16
Votos 3
Partes 4

Continúa<5 mins

Última publicación mar, abr 19, 2022

bellow burn collection collective dark

Poems in the night

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Picking Daisies (Book #1, Emily's story)
Why I wasn't important. Why I wasn't worth it. Why I was invisible. Why I gave up. Why I hate myself. Why I am alone. Why I got rope. Why I got a chair.
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Poems of Pain and Solitude
For every person out there that was quiet, not because they chose to be so, but because they were choking in the smoke. Because their opinions were apparently not worth anything. Because they didn't know just how to say what they felt. For every person that is consumed by their own thoughts, the derision from the outside world only making it worse. For every soul that was drowning in remorse and anguish on restless nights. For every soul that says I love you in the dark and in the mirror because no one else does. For the floors we would pace while anxiety sunk its teeth into us. For the mirrors that we would break while shame echoed its laugh in our caged walls. For the hearts that would ache while loneliness was the only company. For every moment of pain and solitude in this world that feels too cruel for such young and frail minds.
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Trapped *Completed* -Editing Slowly-
Begging won't work, it only brings him more satisfaction. Crying will only prolong your life in the slightest, but at that point you'll wish you were dead. Being quiet only makes him know you're trying to be strong, though you're failing and you both know it. Nothing ever works, in this house of madness. Once you've stumbled upon the door step, you'll wish you had listened to the saying "curiosity killed the cat". Because in this house, you're the cat, also known as his prey. You'll never leave, never escape. Few make it past midnight, even less make it pass 2:00 a.m. Almost no one makes it past 4:00 a.m., and no one, has made it to the morning.
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Escaping the Monster's Embrace (OLD BEING REWRITTEN )
(Currently being rewritten under a new name The Claimed) Everything changed when they came out of hiding, terror spread across the world as people began to question if our presidents and our global leaders lied to us and weren't from the same race. The Beasts blended in amongst us as if we were the same, except humans didn't have the same predatory instincts and we couldn't change our forms like they could. Soon after we learnt that we weren't the only species people began going missing. Some were unlucky and taken as something that the Beasts called a Mate that one word made fear spread throughout my veins, I would rather sell my soul than have one of them mutts chain me to them. Six months went by before the government, that was un-tainted by this vile race began to take action into their own hands contacting other countries and militaries causing the great war to happen, sending both my parents off to fight for our rights. Only one of them came back, two months was the longest we lasted before we were overpowered by them. Six years of living in this dysfunctional environment and my hatred had never dwindled. Some people still believed in god and had faith in him, I didn't know what I believed in but I prayed like everyone else that I would get through another day without hearing the soul crushing word 'Mate'. DARK THEMES THROUGHOUT. UNEDITED © All rights reserved© #1 in hunt 19/06/2019 #1 in human 19/06/2019 #1 in sanity 19/012019 #3 in mate 19/06/2019 #4 in mates 19/06/2019 #5 in hunted 19/06/2019 #1 Post-apocalyptic 30/8/19 #8 in dystopian 7/10/19 #4 in Escape 24/10/19
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NOW YOU SEE," THE REAL ME" UNDER MAJOR EDITING
NOW YOU SEE "THE REAL ME" #1 IN THE SERIES OF POETRY BOOKS //SAD POETRY EDITION (under major editing) "My heart was taken by you, broken by you, and now it's in pieces because of you" My poems aren't the best. The first few poems may not seem worthy of being read but... later down in the book they get better. To some, my poems are beautiful; to some, my poems are shitty and they are rubbish💀. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! I can't promise that your time won't be wasted reading this book. I'm not a professional poet so expect the worst. This book isn't for everyone. It's sad, a little motivating and dark. If you aren't into sad poems don't read this book, it isn't for you. This book contains some of my thoughts,mostly about me or the people around me or just society in general. If you are feeling sad or depressed, please seek help. I know how much it hurts but it isn't too late to heal. Cover made on postermywall ♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡.｡♥*♡∞:｡ Rankings: #1 in sad poet out of 23 07/25/2021 #2 in deep thought out of 4. 8 K stories 07/25/2021 #2 in thoughts out of 73. 4 K stories 07/25/2021 #3 in sad poems out of 10.1 K stories 07/25/2021 #3 in thoughts and feelings out of 10.1 K stories 07/25/2021 #6 in poet out of 14.3 K stories 07/25/2021 #40 in deep out of 26.6 K stories 07/25/2021 #48 in depressing out of 18. 3 K stories 07/25/2021
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A Diary of Soul (Unedited Version)
Know Thyself - Socrates Have you ever felt like a stranger to yourself? Like you're here, but lost? Just another performing mask in a sea of faces? Another wandering being made of dust? • Finding yourself and healing amidst dark moments of life isn't the easiest experience. This journey from unfamiliarity to reconnecting with authentic self expression is what Onarietta documents in her début poetry book, A Diary of Soul. In each entry, she records new discoveries, old pains, hidden fears, joys, and hope that keeps her going, through poems and poetic prose. A Diary of Soul is a companion book for anyone that seeks to learn how to confront and comfort the dark and hurt parts of themselves. It is a guide to finding yourself and creating an identity beyond negative personal expressions and experiences. • Each part (Being, Reawakening, Refining, and Becoming) represents the ever-reoccurring cycles of growth you experience as a person, even as you learn to accept who you are, discover your potential, and grow into more authentic expressions of Self. || Original Description: A collection of poems and poetic prose. This is somewhat of a memoir. I have written these notes and poems to make you feel hope and dread, seen and heard. I have also written them to make you dream, for I shall not dream alone. I don't have nightmares...but I'm rather good at writing them. I also rant once in a while...or maybe that's what this whole book is about. I hope to sift through your head as you walk through mine. Thanks for stopping by. And please vote as you read :) - Ovokive ♡ • Started: 27.08.22 Completed: 08.03.23 • PUBLISHED!!! • Best Rankings 💗💙 #1 Poet ------------------ 01/01/23 #1 writing ---------------- 01/01/23 #1 poetrycollection -------- 03/01/23 #1 poembook -------------- 03/01/23 #2 poetry ------------------ 01/01/23 #2 thoughts --------------- 01/01/23 #2 relate -------------------- 03/01/23 #3 poems ---------------
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Madness
Mind is a wonderful thing.. it's something that makes us-humans, different from one another. We all have a nose,a mouth, two hands, two feet, two eyes, one head-it's the mind inside that head that makes a difference. It's the mind that decides our character, it decides our actions, it defines our life,it's our mind that makes us love or hate something or someone. People aren't all bad or all good.. they have a touch of both but it's the mind that tricks us into loving or hating a person. Most of the times we don't actually love a person, we love the image of the person that our mind creates based on our memories with that person & same goes for the hate as well, we have bad memories with a person, we have a bad image of the person which leads to us hating that particular individual. We don't see people for who they actually are, we don't see the world for what it actually is, we merely see the image of it that our mind has created, the world for us is nothing more than an illusion. Our own personal illusion.. What's funny is that no one's ever going to know your illusion-your world as it is for you.. Despite all of the brilliant illusions that our mind creates, mind itself is the greatest creation of the mother nature. Without mind-this great tool, there would've been no cell phones, no television, no books, no music, no love, no hate, no life. nothing! But in reality, the mind is but a twisted yarn of madness. Yet every mind is great in itself. And didn't they say..? "No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness" -with love, Harika
A Chapter Named C
Everything I wrote about you...
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Thoughts of a Juvenile
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.
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Picking Daisies (Book #1, Emily's story)

Why I wasn't important. Why I wasn't worth it. Why I was invisible. Why I gave up. Why I hate myself. Why I am alone. Why I got rope. Why I got a chair.

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