My story
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My Poetry Escape
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.Complete
10 Months Of You
Idk if I would call this a story or something but I'm just gonna write my how I feel. Basically it's me telling you how I'm slowly becoming nothing more than a memory to the woman I really love and that no matter how much time passes I'll still be here. Hopefully you can relate or just like itComplete!["I'm not the monster on the inside." • [Tom x Reader]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/192479305-256-k867000.jpg)
"I'm not the monster on the inside." • [Tom x Reader]
You've known Tom since the two of you were little kids. The two of you grown very close to each other as you got older. But growing into adults, you started to notice Tom acting different. You tried to not put much mind into it thought. Two years later you and Tom decided to move in together. This is just when you really saw that there was something wrong with Tom. You ask him what was wrong all he would tell you is, "oh I'm fine y/n" or, "there isn't anything wrong y/n" that just worried you more. One day tom was acting very, very weird... you had to ask him again but this time you were more serious about asking. Once you asked he sighed looking up at you. "I'm getting tracked down and followed... because of something that this person thinks involves me...." tom said. You wanted to ask more but couldn't due to you being socked. You just knew you wanted to be there for Tom as much as possible and help protect him. (Original cover art was not made by me, just a simple edit over) (I do not own any of the characters in this story) (All warnings aren't listed in the first chapter posted)Complete
Dear Journal...
Just an online journal of my personal thoughts . No, I am not suicidal. No, I am not depressed. Just introverted, and I trap feelings in more than I'm supposed to .. So I let them out here.Complete
Running from the gang
In life, we do things we regret, or that we wish we could wipe from our memory forever. At the age of 15, I didn't think I'd regret anything until I was an adult. I considered myself care free. I lived life one day at a time. Well, as much as a 15 year old can. But in life, there are also things that we can't change, that we can't forget. Circumstances change, events occur, and life as we know it is altered forever. For me, it was one night, that set in motion a series of events that I wouldn't be able to forget, even if I tried to. *************************** My life was spectacular, or cool, but I was content, and that's all that mattered. I wasn't overly popular, I wasn't the prettiest girl, and I didn't live in a mansion. I did have a great boyfriend, and amazing friends, and hell, I wasn't doing too bad in school either. But that all changed one night, as I was walking home at night. I witnessed a man murder someone he claimed was a snitch, something to do with a gang deal gone wrong. When I found my parents dead the next day in a serial killers wet dream, my naive self decided the best thing I could do, was run, giving up everything I loved. After 2 years, 3 dead members of the gang and a new school, I was found. When secrets are unraveled and with the FBI somehow involved, nothing is as it ever seemed.Complete
Evolving
My not-quit-finished-just-getting-started-very-messy-and-awkward story. I've done quite a few things in my life, some good and some bad. Most of the memories that are stuck in my brain are the bad ones, but some are so amazing that I need to share them. And that's what I'm doing. I'm telling you my story.Complete
For The Boy Who Doesn't Know
* Warning!: Small sexual and emotional abuse content* I huffed as I lay on my bed. Wanting to cry and scream, but feel numb at the same time. Keeping all my feelings in is not a great experience to have. I roll around hoping to find some comfortable position I can lay to think about this fully. I like him, but I shouldn't like him, but I wish I can be with him. That has been the story of my life for the past four years. I lay in my bed for a while. At this point, I can't keep this all in anymore. People always say to write your thoughts down, right? I got up, collected my keys and bag, and head out to the nearest store that sold cute journals. Once I found a journal that had "Say Something" on a grey cover I bought it along with a pack of pens and quickly went home. I was about to write the problems I was having now first, then decided against it and started all the way from the beginning when I first met him... ~~~ Part One in the Boys series. The first half of the book has very short chapters, but they get longer in the end.Complete
Living for me
I don't know any other proper way to express my feelings, and I think this is the best and healthiest way to do it. So here is a diary, an autobiography however you would like to interpret it. It's about me and my life. It's the way I deal with living.Complete
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.
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