Living with our thoughts
- LECTURES 6
- Votes 0
- Chapitres 1
En cours d'écriture<5 mins
Dernière publication mar., févr. 10, 2015
I have a question. How are we suppose to live when all we think about is dying? Everyday. Every. Single. Day. Truth is when youre suicidal you dont live, you just go day by day trying to not kill yourself and easing the pain with a silver little piece of perfection that draws beauty.
If you dont understand the mind of a suicidal teen youre lucky. Because the are So Many of us.
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night time poetry
*Poetry and quotes I come up with when I'm supposed to be asleep* Most are quite short so the last chapter will be all of them combined because I'm aware of how many ads there are now They will get better and most will be triggering I will update occasionally but I'm marking as complete Please vote or comment on your favourite poems (alway comment any spelling or punctuation mistakes) Please don't ask me if I'm ok, I'm fine and poetry is how I cope with many things. I just hope that if you relate to any of these poems that they help you too. Btw all the love poems are about a guy that I no longer like that much but they're not that shit so why not keep them TWs: language, suicide, depression, derealization, self harm, murder and more Wow! Nearly 2k reads! I truly appreciate everyone who has read this book ♡Terminé
Bitter Sweet Emotions
Just things I write well I'm not in a very good Place. I thought these aren't half bad. So why don't I share them with other people not only myself? So here we are I hope you like them. Also if some of them are Quotes or Poems you've seen before feel free to tell me, because I never looked anything up just wrote what came to mind. So maybe I wrote a Quote, that has already been thought of, and of course Thank you for even clicking on this worthless, trashy, and utterly pointless book... Side note it gets better at the end of this book. The beginning is 6th grade me (11-12 year old me) so it's pretty fucking terrible, but who gives a fuck anyway? Not Me!Terminé
When it Rains and Rains
(A Sequel to A Little Too Late) **Caution: may contain drug references, violence, sex scenes.** How do you go on, when everything you live for in life is gone? How can anything in life make you as happy as that one person made you? Is it even possible to find one tenth of that happiness they gave you once they have left this land? My answer to these questions is you can’t, from my experience is that it’s just not possible. No one knows how it feels. They’ll never understand why I feel the way I feel and why I use pain and pleasure to escape my unwanted pain. They’ll never understand why I tried to leave this world on that day and many other days after that.Terminé
The Words I couldn't Say
This is a place for me to put all the things I wish I said but I just couldn't. These are a way for me to "say" these things without actually saying them to the person I want to. I probably won't ever go back or read any of these because it's like revisiting a bad memory so don't expect much in terms of editing. Also I wouldn't consider this poetry but it is laid out that way. WARNING Talk of depression, suicide, anxiety, and self harm. Don't read if you don't like things like that and may get triggered. I don't mean to cause anyone problems of any sort, but these are the things I feel and can't help. Please keep negativity away as this is a sensitive subject for a lot of people. Thank you. Highest rankings: 99 in sadpoems Highest rankings: 118 in iwannadieTerminé
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.Terminé
Rich Kids
Yes, it is sad... I am not prone to drama like the rest of you. Our lives are encompassed with monotonous events, the usual really: eat, sleep, work, repeat. But honestly, am I complaining? I can, I could have... But the question remains, do I even have the energy to spark up a fire? We could be flowers, adorning ourselves to appear more attractive for the bees' ocellus. Or glow brighter than the sun to entice. But why go through all that hustle when we can just live through the eyes of another? Seems simpler enough anyway. Suck the adrenaline rush of the stunners. The ones that even with just a sneeze, the entire earth would shake, sprinting towards them. Their being, the forbidden tree, strutting at the centre of the Garden of Eden. Their souls, Magnetite. We could attempt. But I do not want to. I try as much as possible to stay away from the disease. As thrilling as it may be: he who will swallow the apple seed must consider the size of his stomach. So why spend a thousand back-breaking years thereafter mopping up the residue? Have the moles drag down your name into the pits with them. Surely, we are not that desperate, are we? Never eye the wife of thy neighbour in fear that she just might be a white fowl with beautiful feathers. So why can I not just stay in my lane? Why can't we? So join in, enter my mind and live out your most exciting reality through the eyes of others. Read it, watch it, envision it. Better than allowing life to feed us up with a spoon of chaos, attracting a series of tornadoes into our mundane worlds. And maybe, we might just fall in love.
Detachable
Losing someone or something is not a choice or something it's predicted. It just happens. You cannot know when it will happen. The worst part of it all is that you can't get it back. Once it's gone, there is no turning back. You truly see how much love and appreciation it deserved, but cause you were so live careless you never gave the tendance it should have gotten. You think to yourself over and over again, where did you go wrong? If you did just one thing differently would everything change? Would the end change? Sadly it won't cause the truth is, the end will come. It doesn't matter if it is sooner or later, but it will come and nothing else will mater. There isn't a happy or sad ending, there just an end. The cruel faith will eventually come and take everything from you, in a blink of an eye. So just live.Terminé
Within Reach
~One more step, was all it would take. To end it all. And here I was, about to take it.~ But what can you do when death doesn't want you dead? When life won't let you go? When the one person you truly live for is someone who your entire being screams at you to run from. When the world tips you upside down and leaves you there to hang. When the person you surround your self with is someone you should only ever meet once. When everything in your past messes with your future. Because Life was never meant to be this way. Not like this. For me, Living became a much harder thing to do, as soon as I found my reason for it. For something I'd always begged for, wants me too. But not how I would have ever deemed possible. It's not what I expected. For I'd never have imagined how close within my reach death really was.Terminé
*Poetry and quotes I come up with when I'm supposed to be asleep* Most are quite short so the last chapter will be all of them combined because I'm aware of how many ads there are now They will get better and most will be triggering I will update occasionally but I'm marking as complete Please vote or comment on your favourite poems (alway comment any spelling or punctuation mistakes) Please don't ask me if I'm ok, I'm fine and poetry is how I cope with many things. I just hope that if you relate to any of these poems that they help you too. Btw all the love poems are about a guy that I no longer like that much but they're not that shit so why not keep them TWs: language, suicide, depression, derealization, self harm, murder and more Wow! Nearly 2k reads! I truly appreciate everyone who has read this book ♡
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