The Weight of Being
- Reads 58
- Votes 13
- Parts 13
We don't talk enough about how heavy it is just to exist.
About waking up tired of yourself.
About loving people you shouldn't.
About carrying pain that no one else sees.
The Weight of Being is not a story - it's a confession carved out of silence.
Twelve fragments of a life collapsing and rebuilding itself through depression, desire, guilt, and small moments of light that somehow keep us breathing.
It's not about healing.
It's about surviving.
It's about the weight,
and the beautiful, unbearable truth of being alive.
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#3
rawwriting
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Where the veiled words linger
There is a silence that bleeds heavier than sound. It lingers in the chest, pressing against the ribs until breathing feels like betrayal. These words, locked behind trembling lips, grow sharper with every heartbeat unvoiced confessions, truths swallowed, grief disguised as strength. To keep them hidden feels merciful, yet the weight corrodes from within. Each unspoken syllable becomes a stone, stacking, suffocating, building a wall no one else can see. And still, the mind whispers: If I release them, will they wound? Will they shatter the fragile balance that silence pretends to protect? So they remain unsaid, unformed, festering in the quiet. Grief turns into an echo, sorrow becomes a shadow. The body smiles, nods, moves forward, but the soul aches with the burden of restraint. Because the truth is this: unspoken words are not weightless. They are anchors, dragging deeper into the dark. And sometimes, the silence itself is louder than anything that could ever be spoken. And this is my confession story.
"Things I Never Said Out Loud"
These are truths I was never taught to speak. Here lie the words I swallowed, the pain I buried, and the questions they told me not to ask. For the unheard. For the unseen. For the ones who feel too much in a world that tells them to feel less. I write for you. I write for me.Complete
broken wings
deep down everyone has secrets , deep down everyone is in pain. some people are just better at hiding it or feel like pain is okay. a girl who seems happy and a guy who can read her like a book pass ways just In this book. tears and joy ,cries and hugs. everything will be okay if she just would have one good luck. But that's not what she cared about, all she wanted was to run away from home, but that grip of her father won't leave her alone . Will he save her fast enough? Or will he help alone not be enough ? - - - " where were you? " " w-what? " " i walked past your class, I was going to walk you to lunch, I wanted t- uhm but you weren't there." " uh I left earlier because I needed to go to the bathroom." " no, I had free period I was waiting on you there the whole time. " Disclaimers 🛑 This isn't a fantasy book This is my first book so I am not the greatest Warnings ⚠️ ⚠️ selfharm, suicide, rape, abuse, death, child lossComplete
Numb
So many things happen in life-pain, loss, confusion, heartbreak-and slowly, we stop feeling. We get tired of hurting, so we go quiet inside. It's not that we don't care anymore, it's just that feeling too much became too heavy. So our heart shuts down to protect us. We smile, we talk, we move through the days, but deep down, everything feels far away. We become numb, not because we want to, but because we needed to survive.Complete
WHEN THE RAIN FORGOT TO FALL
I wrote this because I needed to survive it. Because there are some feelings too big for silence. Some heartbreaks too heavy to carry alone. This isn't fiction. This is my heart, broken open and rearranged into verse. "I saw you standing where the sidewalk curves, and suddenly my chest knew different words." - That's how it started. A glance. A stranger. A feeling I couldn't ignore. "You said we needed to talk. Those five words, I knew. I already knew." - And that's how it ended. Not with fire. With silence. I won't tell you that time heals all wounds. I won't say everything happens for a reason. I won't pretend heartbreak makes you stronger. But I will show you that: You can survive what you think will destroy you. You can break and still become beautiful. You can love someone and lose them and still be whole. You can be your own happy ending. I wrote these poems with tears on my face. I wrote them on good days when I forgot to hurt. Every word is something I actually felt. Every line is a moment I actually lived. "You are not broken. You are breaking open. And that's where the light gets in." - That's what this taught me. That's what I hope it gives you, the comfort of knowing you're not alone.Complete
Didn't Want to be the Strong One
Some people were never given the choice to fall apart. This is for the ones who smiled when they didn't want to. Who held it together so others didn't have to. Who were told they were "strong" when all they really felt was tired. I Didn't Want to Be the Strong One is a raw, poetic confessional - part journal, part quiet breakdown. There's no plot. Just pages that bleed a little. If you've ever been the one who got through it silently... This one's for you.Complete
The Weight We Carry
Every heart holds a story, and every story leaves a weight behind. The Weight We Carry is a living collection - written in real time, in the middle of survival, burnout, healing, and trying again anyway. These poems come from the spaces between responsibilities: grocery aisles, late nights, applications, shifts, side hustles, and the quiet moments when everything finally catches up. This collection explores the ache of memory, the exhaustion of caring too much, the frustration of broken systems, and the complicated reality of choosing to help when it costs you something. There is grief here, and anger, and dark humor. There is healing, but it is not linear. Hope shows up when it can, but it doesn't pretend to fix everything. Through raw, unfiltered verses, The Weight We Carry holds space for the people who keep going without applause - the helpers, the burned out, the ones trying to build something better while still carrying their own survival on their backs. These poems are for anyone who has felt the weight of the world press down and kept moving anyway. Not because it was easy. But because stopping was never really an option.
THE GIRL WHO OUTGREW HER HURT
"The Girl Who Outgrew Her Hurt" is my story in poems. I was the quiet girl with a soft heart, hard thoughts, and hidden pain. The one who smiled while healing, loved while breaking, and kept everything inside. This book is for the ones who feel too deeply, overthink at night, and keep going anyway. It's about heartbreak, friendships that faded, missing people who didn't stay, and finding myself in the mess. I wrote every poem from the truth I carry - soft, bold, and still becoming. This is me, outgrowing what tried to break me.Complete
Fragments Of A Shattered Dawn
A collection of raw, unfiltered poems that bleed with honesty. Inside these pages live the ghosts of depression, self-harm, suicidal thoughts, heartbreak, abuse, and grief. These words do not shy away from darkness-they sit with it, speak its language, and unravel the silence it leaves behind. But this is also a book about survival. About longing and love, even when unreturned. About desire that aches and healing that comes in imperfect forms. About the messy, jagged ways we try to piece ourselves back together. For anyone who has felt too much, or nothing at all. For anyone searching for fragments of themselves in the ruins. This is not a guide to healing. This is proof you are not alone in the storm. Trigger Warnings: Depression Self-harm Suicidal ideation Grief and loss Emotional and psychological trauma Abuse (emotional, physical, and implied sexual) Dissociation Heartbreak and unrequited love Loneliness and isolation Sexual themes and longing Descriptions of pain and intrusive thoughts
Validity
This collection of poetry is my story. This is all the things I struggle or struggled with within myself, and most of these things I've overcome. The purpose of this collection is to help y'all understand that you're not alone. Enjoy.Complete
There is a silence that bleeds heavier than sound. It lingers in the chest, pressing against the ribs until breathing feels like betrayal. These words, locked behind trembling lips, grow sharper with every heartbeat unvoiced confessions, truths swallowed, grief disguised as strength. To keep them hidden feels merciful, yet the weight corrodes from within. Each unspoken syllable becomes a stone, stacking, suffocating, building a wall no one else can see. And still, the mind whispers: If I release them, will they wound? Will they shatter the fragile balance that silence pretends to protect? So they remain unsaid, unformed, festering in the quiet. Grief turns into an echo, sorrow becomes a shadow. The body smiles, nods, moves forward, but the soul aches with the burden of restraint. Because the truth is this: unspoken words are not weightless. They are anchors, dragging deeper into the dark. And sometimes, the silence itself is louder than anything that could ever be spoken. And this is my confession story.
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