thoughts?

LECTURAS 43
Votos 6
Partes 5
Hora <5 mins

LECTURAS 43
Votos 6
Partes 5
Hora <5 mins

Contenido adulto

loveyourself mymind notastory overthinking suicidalthoughts thoughts

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Amidst the scars and shattered pieces of my soul, I write, clawing my way through the pain, desperate to hold on to the fragile thread of life.🖤Todos los derechos reservados

loveyourself mymind notastory overthinking suicidalthoughts thoughts

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i drew a butterfly on my wrist, in hopes that this feeling would no longer persist, but things got bad and i started to cry, so the butterfly on my wrist had to die. once again i tried to set myself free, but it seems my thoughts have stolen the key, so this butterfly lived a short life, killed with fear, and a very sharp knife. -b.g [lower case intended.]

I was drowning. I knew that. I also knew that the hands around my throat, pushing me deeper into the river water was the cause. What I didn't know was who was drowning me and why. It hurt thinking. It hurt to do anything right now. But I still screamed under the cold water and pushed the hands away as hard as I could. It didn't have much effect. I fought and fought, but I was getting weaker, and colder. The pain was overbearing. I couldn't breathe. It was the worst pain imaginable; and as the hands that were around my neck were forcibly ripped off by some unknown force, I slipped deeper into the depths of the river. My hair was straight above me along with my arms. My eyes were open and the water burned. A darkness started to pull me under, taking the pain away. I felt a small pressure around my waist, before the darkness completely consumed me. The last thing I remember is thinking, save me.

"She showed other people how poor of a person I was and they bullied me right alongside her. It only got worse from there. The day I attempted suicide, she had told me to kill myself." Warning: some parts can be triggering I wrote this back in 2016 so it is CRINGEY. You have been warned.

(Will be rewritten) I won't summarize this story, but I'll just say this one will likely be a sad one Warnings; self-harm, attempted suicide, eating disorders, vomiting, traumatic events, etc etc

Volume II of my life's poetry work As with my first volume, these poems contain snippets of my life and my strongest emotions. Here I have opened my soul up to be read.

I'm just going to write part of the story because I'm terrible at descriptions. "See, Harry," I say, showing him a beautiful picture of the city, "these are reasons to live." "Looks like a perfect place to die to me," Harry says. "Harry, just listen to me. You're not worthless. You're not fat. You're not ugly. Please just stop saying these terrible things about yourself." "Yes I am. People tell me that all the time. They tell me to slit my wrists, I listen to them. They tell me I'm worthless, I believe them. They tell me I'm fat, I listen to them and starve myself. So people don't think the same as you. But it's not like it matters what one person says," Harry says sadly. "Awwww, my poor little cupcake! It's okay, sweetie, I'll help you," I tell him. "A-and AJ," Harry stutters, "P-people say that you hate me and want me to die just as much as them. Is that true?" "No, Harry. I love you very, very much. Please don't do these terrible things to yourself." Read the rest to find out!

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.

Singing With The Siren [A Fell!Sans x Reader] de Headinthegalaxy

TRIGGER WARNING! This story contains themes of self-harm and suicide. If you are unable to handle these themes in your current state of mind, please avoid this story. I do not intend to glorify these experiences, it just happens I wrote most of this at a dark time in my life. Go drink some water, and, if you do insist on continuing, I will provide warnings at the start of those chapters. Please, take care of yourselves, and know that you are loved. "Two birds... on a wire. One tries to fly away and the other..." Y/n L/n, a young siren cast alone in the deep blue finds a shimmer of hope, a glimmer of light in the dark. This light comes, not as an angel, but as a brash skeleton, with a soft spot for oddities, throwing Y/n into a whirlwind of emotions as she tries to navigate the unsettled waters of her own soul. Hey there! You may recognise this story, I've been re-writing it for a while and it's finally ready! Please enjoy!

[Completed] [Rewritten] "I feel like I'm an artist. My brushes are my blades and my canvas is my wrist." First chapter sucks, but I think the rest of it is decent . . . ❗❗Trigger Warning❗❗ Mentions of self-harm, eating disorders, depression and suicide Started: November 11th 2019 Finished: March 24th 2020 Rewriting started: December 21st 2020 Rewriting finished: October 17th 2022 Best rankings: #1 in jincentric, #1 in beatup, #2 in bulimianervosa

"I have this friend that I care for deeply. Her boyfriend is an asshole, they would fight all the time, yet she can't find it in her to leave him for whatever reason. I try to help her but I never seem to say the right things. She killed herself, she just killed herself without leaving a note or anything. And I can't understand why she did that."

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Singing With The Siren [A Fell!Sans x Reader] cover

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i drew a butterfly on my wrist, in hopes that this feeling would no longer persist, but things got bad and i started to cry, so the butterfly on my wrist had to die. once again i tried to set myself free, but it seems my thoughts have stolen the key, so this butterfly lived a short life, killed with fear, and a very sharp knife. -b.g [lower case intended.]

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