The things I never told anyone; ABOUT LAST YEAR - POEMS
  • Reads 131
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 47
  • Time 12m
  • Reads 131
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 47
  • Time 12m
Ongoing, First published May 23, 2023
Being a 16-year-old girl is hard. But if you add realizing you are not straight, right before starting a new school, a new team with a new coach (that doesn't like you, and you start to hate cause he destroyed the love you had for the game), then it's almost impossible, and trust me I KNOW. Because that was me last year and during some moments I didn't think I was going to survive, but I did, and this (+ a lot of time spent painting, which resulted in a lot of paintings as well) is what got me here alive (maybe too deep, but it's true). Also reading poems that i could relate to helped, and that's why I wanted to post this.

One of my friends told me i should name this "the key to my brain" because it is, but to unlock my brain you need more than my deepest secrets and purest thoughts, you will need MY STORY, and this is only part of it. So maybe I should call it "a map to my brain". But then it's about last year, and how/what I thought at the moment, soo.

Last year was one of the worst I will ever experience, but when I started writing the voices in my head weren't as loud. I just wrote everything and nothing at the same time. Some are DEEP, others shallow. 
I wrote most of them during the evenings and night, cuse that was the only time I felt alone but not lonely.

Hope you like them, or at least one of them. 

ps. if you ever feel like everything sucks, just know it will get better.

ps 2. asking for help makes you strong, not weak.

ps 3. my favorite are the ones after RANDOM.
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Slide 1 of 10
𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺 cover
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🎕 Cₒᵤₙₜᵣyₕᵤₘₐₙₛ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ ONESHOTS cover
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ياقلب دقات الهوى لاعبتني قامت تمايل بالدلع كانه العود  cover

𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺

100 parts Ongoing

MELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. SOON TO BE A PUBLISHED PAPERBACK. COMING 2025! This melancholy drips from my fingertips so slowly, you begin to forget I even exist. All of me, the hard parts of flesh you could never seem to love, drips down the drain. I am waiting for the day for your fingers to unscrew the pipes, dig through debris and mess, scrape your heart against the rust, just to find me, so we can go through it all over again. Here, in the pages I find myself, in the ink that writes against my flesh, I will whisper the sadness, the heartache, and the decaying for all of the unspoken. Perhaps under this layer of melancholy, the girl I once knew still exists.    First poetry collection in the series. Original poems based off real life experiences. #12 in poetry. Cover template made by @KaleidoGraphix on Canva. 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 copyright © May Garner. 2017. All Rights Reserved.