A Garden of Dead Things
- MGA BUMASA 239
- Mga Boto 10
- Mga Parte 10
This book is my life laid bare - a story of pain, loneliness, and mental chaos that most people don't see. It's about the slow, unbearable unravelling of a mind caught in the grips of depression, anxiety, trauma, and heartbreak.
There's no sugarcoating here. No fairy tales or hopeful endings. This is a glimpse into what it feels like to be completely lost inside yourself, where every day is a battle to hold on, even when you don't know what you're holding onto anymore.
I write about the nights filled with overwhelming silence that screams louder than any words. About the weight of memories and pain so heavy it crushes the light out of your life.
This story doesn't shy away from the darkest parts: the thoughts that haunt you, the self-hate that grows quietly, the invisible scars left by emotional abuse and trauma. It's about fighting to survive when it feels like there's nothing left inside you but broken pieces.
But more than that, it's about the truth of living with a mind that doesn't always want to be healed, a heart that keeps breaking even when you try to protect it, and a soul that longs for peace but only finds pain.
I'm not telling this story for sympathy or comfort. I'm telling it because this is real. Because sometimes, the only way to breathe is to say out loud what hurts the most.
If you're tired of pretending everything's okay, if you've ever felt like no one truly understands the storm inside your head, then this book is for you. It's not easy to read - but it's real, and it's mine.
Welcome to my garden of dead things.
All Rights Reserved
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Blood in the Margins: a collection of different poems, unfinished potential
FINISHED AND COMPLEATED. Just poems, I suppose. Or maybe a scrapbook of scars. A chaotic collage of half-born stories, abandoned plots, and feelings too loud to ignore. This isn't a novel. It's a graveyard of unwritten books- stitched together with ink and impulse. A little trauma here, a little heartbreak there. Addiction. Bad parents. Dangerous love. The usual mess. I never claimed to be a poet, but pain has a way of teaching rhythm. And when the stories in my head refused to become chapters, they became verses instead. My father? A ghost in flesh. A man who cradled needles more tenderly than he ever held me. He is an addict. A lover of oblivion. And I, the daughter left behind in the smoke of his escape. Does that make me a girl with "daddy issues"? Or just a girl still learning how not to bleed from wounds she didn't choose? This book is for the overthinkers, the almost-authors, the ones who feel too much and write too little- until the words finally spill out like blood on the page. Welcome to the ride. There's no exit. But there's poetry in the wreckage. Author's Note I didn't set out to write a book. I set out to survive my own mind. This is what happens when you have too many stories, too many ghosts, and not enough discipline to finish a single novel. So instead, I wrote poems- or something like them. Fragments. Feelings. Flashbacks. A scrapbook of the soul. Some of these pieces are fiction. Some are memory. Some are just what happens when you stare at the ceiling too long and let your thoughts rot into poetry. If you've ever had a thousand ideas and no idea where to start- if you've ever felt too broken to write but too full not to- this is for you. Thanks for riding with me. There's no map. No neat ending. Just the wreckage, and the words we make from it.Kumpleto
At just 13
To the countless women who have survived the invisible cages of domestic abuse, the silent screams echoing in empty rooms, the suffocating sweetness of manipulative love turning to bitter ash. This is for those who have found the strength to break free, to rebuild their lives from the shattered fragments of their past. This is for the daughters and sons who witnessed the darkness, yet found the courage to nurture the seeds of hope in their mothers' hearts. This is for the ones who, felt the insidious creep of control, the slow erosion of self, the chilling isolation that whispers of despair. This is for the women who, against all odds, found the unwavering strength to pick up the pieces, to reclaim their voices, their identities, their futures. This is for the women who dared to escape, to heal, to thrive. To the anchors of my resilience, the embodiment of my enduring hope, and to every woman who has fought for her own freedom, this book is a testament to your immeasurable courage, your unwavering spirit, and your unyielding strength. May it serve as a beacon of light in the darkest of nights, a reminder that even in the deepest shadows, the flame of hope continues to burn. May it inspire you to keep fighting, keep believing, keep rising. Because you are stronger than you know, braver than you imagine, and infinitely more resilient than you ever believed possible. This is for you, for your unyielding spirit and for the future you are forging. May this story be a small contribution to a much-needed conversation, a whisper of solidarity in the face of overwhelming silence, a reminder that you are not alone and that healing is possible. Your fight, your survival, your triumph, inspires me every single day. This book is my tribute to your unwavering strength. This is for you.Kumpleto
Control Me (book 1)
"Who's there," I can't breath. I'm always looking over my shoulder ever since- I can't think about the now. I have to run but where, back to Jake? No I can't, everything is different now. He's supposed to be here to protect me, because if the got me... blood smears the pages of the passed. "Sapphire!" I hear him call. "Coal!" I reach out to touch him only for him to be yanked just out of my reach. I hear the wolves in the distance howling at the beautiful moon. I need his touch again. I need to know I'm safe. The only safe place anymore is pressed against him under the sheets. "Coal!" I call out again. ---I can hear her. She's here somewhere I know it. I can smell her sent threw the thick of the woods. "Sapphire!" I call out, but my call is lost in the night. I have to protect her. I have to save one, just one. Maybe that will be enough to clean the blood off my tainted skin. What if they get her? She'll... Change... I look up at the moon, could she not have heard my howls? Of course she did. She always did. I can hear the other wolves in the forest. Soon I too would be engulfed by the beast. Unable to control myself, unable to predict the beasts next move. Only she could tame the beast inside me. Why be afraid of the monster under the bed when you should be afraid of the one lying next to you under the sheets.--- I keep quiet in the deep dark night. Watching her waiting for her to come back to me. I wait for him to slip up just long enough for me to swoop in and take her. It's only a matter of time. I wait for him to turn into that hideous beast. The beast that only comes out in the light of the moon. The beast that feeds of the insentient. I have to find her,to make her perfect, at least that's what they tell me. They tell me she'll be perfect and she will be mine. She will be the beginning of a new ere the ere of the beast. Everyone has secrets. Everyone lies. Everyone cries. Everyone dies. 2 view points, Coal and Sapphire. Mature! All rights reserved! Thank you!Kumpleto
Mated To The Dragon✔(COMPLETED)
-COMPLETED AS OF JUNE 1, 2017- Highest Ranking: #1 - November 27, 2018 ~READER REVIEWS~ "WOW" - StephanieSmith193 "I love you!! And I think you are very talented!! Keep up the good work!!!" - NoraHurst "This is a beautiful fairytale!" - suga9scupin "I really appreciate this description. So detailed in all the right places." - jonubastard "Very very INTERESTED... Ama buy your book if published." - suga9scupin "I'm so proud of you! But I'm so sad this story has ended. When I saw "completed" in the title I was like 'holy hell where have I been', and instantly knew I had to get to reading. Thank you so much for many wonderful years and great chapters, you're so awesome for putting out great content despite the many tragedies." - DeathByAPilgrim "Girl let me tell you, thank you so much for creating such a wonderful book,I really enjoyed and I was in tears. You did such an amazing job boo, thank you for your book." - herssheys "Awesome job ur story really pulled me in. Your characters were so real that I cried when they cried and laughed when they laughed. Everything was so real and so involving that it felt like I was right there with them. Keep up the writing and I am hooked for life." - macker729 ***** STORY DESCRIPTION: She lowered her fingers to the creasing of her pants with one hand, where he'd touched her and brought her to an orgasm so effortlessly. Then she let her other hand graze over her neck until she felt the tender spot where'd sucked and nipped at her skin - further claiming her. Proof. It was real. She let her head relax against the wall, and her eyes drifted closed again. She wanted to grasp that again. Grasp that passion, and relive it once more. It reminded her that she wasn't a mistake and she wasn't pathetic. She had found the one. The right one. The real one. Her Bounder. <Warning: Story May Contain Sexual Scenes, Profanity, Graphic Violence, Unnecessary Exposure Of My Personal Life To My Precious Readers, And Other Detailed Events>Kumpleto
Static
{COMPLETED} "now that you've had your fun electrocuting me, would you care to hop in the backseat?" ---------------------------------------------------------- Freak DNA. That's what I like to call it. The fault to my genetic code. More often than not, it's a curse. The static running through my blood gave me a name. A cruel, daunting label of a measly bug. A roach. That's what I am to them, to the government. Roach; the nameless monster with electricity for a sense and lightening as a second nature. It ruined my life, the sparking currents playing tag in my mind, running around and bumping into everything, shaking me loose. The government, actually. They ruined my life. My curse just gave them a reason. You see, the normal population with ordinary DNA, they don't know about the people like me. The roaches of the world. We don't get that kind of recognition at the camps. There, we are only one thing in the military's eyes. We are weapons and we will act like it. Everyone else out there, bathing in the goodness they don't know they've got, they don't know about the roaches their stepping on. As long as their getting closer to the sky, they don't care what they stand on to reach it. They don't know about the sparkling dreamer that's killed 7 people before her 17th birthday. They don't about the ghost of a girl peaking around corners for her entire life because even home wasn't safe. They don't know about the fighter of steel and iron sucking on his bloody lip courtesy of the wars he battles in as nothing but a shadow. They don't know about the masked villain who would do anything to see the army they lead claim the throne They don't know about us. But they will, because we will rise. And when we arrive, we will arrive violently. ___________________________________________ Started: 10.06.15 Finished: 3.17.16Kumpleto
𝕳𝖚𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖘, 𝕳𝖚𝖍
ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴍᴀɴ x ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ -------- WARNING BEFORE YOU READ #2 mermaids 20200606 #4 fan made 20200605 #8 humans 20200605 #22 Obsession 20200605 #1 fish 20220630 !!!!UNDER SOME HEAVY EDITING!!!! -Swearing -inappropriateness of the human body -sexual theme or content -maybe a lemon or maybe a whole lot -auctioning up -18+ mind to read this "375 gold coins for this pretty little fishy" a tradesman shouts out as there was a whole crowd surrounding the pretty artificial who was scared to death. Y/n was walking down the street going to see her dad when she sees the auction on a dumb fish girl. 'Who would want her' she thought as she took a step away from the area Until a firm shout was called out of the crowd "5...hundred gold coins" he raised his hand while female turns around to see his bagged money already in the tradesman's hand. He pushes the container to him with the girl, screaming. She grins at this stupid idea and ran off "This is stupid, Y/n" She gather her crew to sent sail in a couple of minutes. She pulls one of her excitement smile on for the crowd to see. "I know, but it could help us with mother's sickness" She steers away off the deck and into the ocean with her crewmen scattering around her "What if you don't come back" Y/n peered down slowly to see the necklace with a piece of diamond tied around it, she looks back up clutching it with one hand. "I promise I'll come back" ---- "Come look, boss!" Joey came running into my room as I got up ASAP. I could see my mother already getting the treatment she needs for sickness to go away, but what if it was a false alarm as usual. I took slowest time ever because I been through this a multiple times. I emerged myself out in the open, squinting my eyes for the sun to hit my face immediately. I crouched down to the thing that got captured in our net, I adjust my eyes and a huge smile came onto my face. "It's a fish man" Created of the wallpapeKumpleto
Atlantis Academy: The First Element
Five Star Reviews for Atlantis Academy: "Omg this book was amazing I couldn't put it down or stop reading. I carried it with me open on my phone while I did everything just to keep reading. I need more of all of this. Epic story, epic content, epic visuals, just epic. LOVE THIS!" "Once I got into this story, I did not stop reading it. This is a beautiful story about a very awkward girl who is riven with so much pain and angst and yet... this makes her who she is and shapes her into the person she will become. The world she finds herself awakened to is magical and yet filled with the all-too-familiar cliques and tribes of the very human people who inhabit it. One word to describe the story: beautiful!" "The story pulls you headlong to the end and leaves you wanting to shout "No! Not yet!" ...If there were 6 stars, I would have given it that." *** Humanity is one secret society away from extinction. The children of Atlantis use magic to keep us safe. If they make it through the Academy. Hi, I'm Lyric. And I'm kind of a mess. ADHD, that's me. I'm a high school drop-out, late everywhere I go, and one screw-up away from being homeless. I'm a loner, and I like it that way. Who needs friends when you have a Redwood forest nearby? Trees never bully me like the kids did at school. Or get drunk and throw things at my head. After my mom died, I figured life couldn't get much worse. I thought it might even get better. Ha. The universe has a great sense of humor. I should've listened to the rumors about evil spirits. About the angry, ancient magical creatures haunting our small Oregon Coast town. But did I? No. That was my first mistake. And it might be my last. 'Cause now I'm in a battle for my life. A whole new world has opened up... a magical world I don't understand. And the blood in my veins says I belong here. But I have to prove myself to save myself. And when have I ever done that?Kumpleto
Resilience
I never planned on telling my story. Truth is, I've spent most of my life holding it in, swallowing the pain, laughing off the shade, putting on a mask when deep down I was fighting battles no one could see. But the older I got, the more I realized silence can eat you alive. And if I don't tell it raw and unfiltered, then who will? This book isn't polished for perfection. It's not sugarcoated, it's not dressed up to make anyone comfortable. It's me, The struggles, the lessons, the laughter, the embarrassing moments, the heartbreaks, the love, the shady comebacks, the nights I thought I wouldn't make it, and the mornings I woke up ready to fight again. I named this book Resilience because that's exactly what my life has been about. No matter how many times I was knocked down by people I loved, by family pressure, by toxic love, by my own mistakes, I got back up. Bruised, maybe. Bitter, sometimes. But never broken. So if you're holding this book, know this is, you're not reading some perfect fairytale. You're stepping into my world. One filled with chaos, comedy, culture, love, and pain that shaped me into the person I am today. And maybe, just maybe, you'll find pieces of yourself in these pages too. This is my story. Raw. Real. Resilient.
FINISHED AND COMPLEATED. Just poems, I suppose. Or maybe a scrapbook of scars. A chaotic collage of half-born stories, abandoned plots, and feelings too loud to ignore. This isn't a novel. It's a graveyard of unwritten books- stitched together with ink and impulse. A little trauma here, a little heartbreak there. Addiction. Bad parents. Dangerous love. The usual mess. I never claimed to be a poet, but pain has a way of teaching rhythm. And when the stories in my head refused to become chapters, they became verses instead. My father? A ghost in flesh. A man who cradled needles more tenderly than he ever held me. He is an addict. A lover of oblivion. And I, the daughter left behind in the smoke of his escape. Does that make me a girl with "daddy issues"? Or just a girl still learning how not to bleed from wounds she didn't choose? This book is for the overthinkers, the almost-authors, the ones who feel too much and write too little- until the words finally spill out like blood on the page. Welcome to the ride. There's no exit. But there's poetry in the wreckage. Author's Note I didn't set out to write a book. I set out to survive my own mind. This is what happens when you have too many stories, too many ghosts, and not enough discipline to finish a single novel. So instead, I wrote poems- or something like them. Fragments. Feelings. Flashbacks. A scrapbook of the soul. Some of these pieces are fiction. Some are memory. Some are just what happens when you stare at the ceiling too long and let your thoughts rot into poetry. If you've ever had a thousand ideas and no idea where to start- if you've ever felt too broken to write but too full not to- this is for you. Thanks for riding with me. There's no map. No neat ending. Just the wreckage, and the words we make from it.
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