White dresses and red lies
  • Leituras 1,463
  • Votos 102
  • Capítulos 17
  • Tempo <5 mins
  • Leituras 1,463
  • Votos 102
  • Capítulos 17
  • Tempo <5 mins
Em andamento, Primeira publicação em jan 25, 2015
There's always something that helps you transport your feelings out. My way is writing. It's all I know. All of these are extracts from a certain thought I get. And it may or may not leave you hungry for more. I know it sucks, but I am sorry dear readers, this is all I am willing to share. I am afraid I will be sent to rehab if all if my thoughts were published. Crazy isn't it? I guess even these extracts are remotely relatable to you in one way or the other. I am sorry if these texts have offended you in way, I truly am. But if you grow to like them even in their worse state, please do tell me. Your opinion will mean the world to me.
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My Poetry Escape, de Someone_Invisible15
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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.
It's Okay to Use Your Big Girl Voice, de Beautiful_Slugger
57 capítulos Em andamento Maduro
Inside you will find a mixture of both, extremely RAW and refreshingly HEALING accounts of my personal war with my past. Unfortunately, Childhood sexual abuse is far too common, and many of share similar experiences. Looking back, what I could have used more than anything was someone to tell me "You're not alone, there is a lightness through the darkness, you can heal from this and most importantly don't EVER stop telling your story to make others comfortable". I've learned that silence is the best weapon for a predator, and I for one, have never been really good at doing what I'm told. I don't intend on starting now. I wear my scar as reminder that I hold the power in my own story, it is mine to tell and I won't make myself sick keeping quiet because my truths are hard to swallow, other people's comfort is not my problem. My Goal is rather simple, to let the readers know, they too are not alone. If you are a survivor, even if you still feel like a victim, this is my personal message to you. "You are strong, and it wasn't your fault. Tell someone... tell anyone...tell everyone... We shift from victims to survivors when we speak up and tell our stories. There's nothing wrong with you, and the light will shine again. The longer you sit in silence the more power your abuser still holds over you, wipe your face warrior, because there's a lion right inside of you, DONT EVER GIVE UP!" *This story is FULL of TRIGGERS, please be careful reading if triggers are hard for you, your mental health matters* *I own all the Rights to all parts of this book*
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Wave (Book 2)

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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.