Behind the Mask
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- Votes 57
- Parts 19
I have through many tough times through out my life. And i always felt like my voice never mattered. So instead of using my unheard voice for nothing, i put it in to words on a blank peice of paper. This became my escape from the real world and into my world.
Kids and teachers encouraged me to publish my writings. I declined saying my poems were never good enough for the publics word seeking eyes.
I have always felt weak in society, like my voice was never heard. Like no one cared. So i remand silent, letting my voice slowly die.
Now i see so many others with no voice, i want them to know that they aren't alone. Because i remember feeling alone with no voice.
I dedicate these poems to them. Because i understand, and your not alone. Some of us look for comfort in words and the rest of us look for comfort and the words of others.
I found comfort in writing words and letting people discover my voice.
And here is to those who think their voice doesn't matter, because it does.
All Rights Reserved
#387
damaged
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Thoughts of a Juvenile
Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.Complete
RYKER & CHARLIE
Viper: When I was a kid I was naive, shy, and easy to push around. I was a little girl who dreamt of sunshine and rainbows. But that all changed when I was 10 years old and my grandparents died. I found myself utterly and completely alone in this world. One bad thing after another seemed to hit me. I of course dealt with it. I dealt with it because a man in a black leather Jacket and fucking amazing ink told me how to survive this cruel world. Sometimes you just have to get mean. And so I did. It became my only vice when shit got tough. I am fine on my own. I don't need anyone. Ryker: When I found her at just ten years old, she was just as cute, button-nosed, and sweet as a jar of honey. I gave her a bit of advice to survive this cruel world. She needed to learn to be a little mean, otherwise she would have been eaten alive. But now that I found her again, she isn't who she was when we first saw each other. She was known as Viper. She seemed to have taken my advice to heart. And fuck, I believe I created a fucking monster. Viper, a dark-haired, green-eyed, wicked smile, and sharp tongue. She thinks she has to do it on her own. But in reality, she doesn't. She has family. She has me. And Lucifer forbids anyone fucks with what belongs to me. Charlie: When I met her at fourteen years old, I never expected her to stay. She was just some kid wanting a tattoo. She was a firecracker waiting to explode. She was protective of things and people that belonged to her. Dan was meant to just kick her out and let her go on her way, but she stayed. Viper, she calls herself. A dark-haired, green-eyed, wicked smile, and sharp as fuck tounged girl. She's tough but needs to learn she has people to lean on. She has family. She has me. And God forbids anyone fucks with what belongs to me. (Fanfic of a book)
War of Praisers
Nothing left my mouth as I stared at him in shock. He truly believed that I was part of this. The man, who I had lived with and served for months. The man who I had protected with my life and soul. I stood still while, as he backed away from me quickly. "I trusted you with my life." His cry pierced around the empty room. He looked so destroyed and hurt, but mostly his face portrayed rage and determation. "And I protected you with mine." I spoke back loudly. I didn't hear myself say it but I knew I did. I look into his eyes even from our distance they seemed to wallow me in darkness. "I gave you mine." My voice was quiet and cracked. His face changed only for a second before his old one took over again. He doesn't believe me. It doesn't matter what I say or do he won't listen. He will still believe I am the bad guy. Just as Kane said, we will never be equals, we will never be fellow humans. We will always be monsters to them. "Yakov, I am not the bad guy." I plead one last time. His Russian accent comes out harsh with his next words. "Your right," he pauses, "you are the villain." I stumble back as if I had just been stabbed in the chest. It was a horrible feeling. It was never good with the emotions and yet I recognize the feeling as heart beak. I barely breathe in air as I regain my posture. A battle cry from somewhere distracts me momentarily. I suddenly remember Ewan. I glare at Yakov one more time before I take off after the cries of battle. Jade believes she started the war among the human and her kind. Nothing is as it was portrayed. The lies and the truth are hidden among each other. There is is no clear good and evil. How can there be if one does not know what is right and what is wrong. She was prepared to see death, prepared to inflict death upon others without mercy or remose. She was prepared to do her job which the Facility had given her. But now it doesn't seem so simple anymore. Instead she focuses on keeping her friends alive.Complete
Why Don't I Write You A Poem
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Holding on and Letting go [Complete]
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My friend, Demise
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Static
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Release
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LUCIAN - Their Little Queen
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A Deadly Love- Book Two
There are worse things than death. ___ "What is wrong with you?" I seethed. She had my back against the wall, pinning me down so I couldn't move. She was much stronger than me, even when I used my strength to get out of her embrace. I held her gaze and I knew that she was gone. There wasn't an ounce of goodness left in her body. She laughed at my question. Of course, I knew what was wrong with her. But I have to find a way to get her back. "What is wrong with me? Ha, nothing sweetheart." she told me with a smile on her face. "I'm just having a little fun." "Yeah, and fun for you is killing innocents," I growled. "Oh, I hate to say this to you but they aren't all innocent." I finally broke free of her and I dropped her to the floor. I held her down with both arms while I was on top of her. All she did was give me a smile. An eerie smile that made a shiver run down my spine. "I should kill you for what you've done," I whispered. "I should make you pay." "Oh, but Sebastian, you won't," she said. "You know why? Because at the end of the day I'm still me, and you will never hurt me, will you?" I hated that she was right. I couldn't kill her. My mind told me that it would be the best to do it but my heart told me otherwise. I mentally cursed at myself for letting this happen to her. "Elora, I know you're still in there." I said. She was still on the ground, but she was not resisting which seemed odd. "She died a long time ago," she said finally. "Alongside her love for you." ___ Book Two in the "From Death to Life" Trilogy #13 in BloodlustComplete
Xalune - Echoes from the past
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The Outcast
"Will you just shut up" !!!!! I shouted loudly turning towards her ,she was literally getting on my nerves now "Don't you dare shout at me...You brought me into this mess", She shouted equally loudly at me The pitch of her voice was shattering my eardrums and I was on the verge of literally killing her now.She was so tiny yet hell annoying The bulb to the patience area in my mind suddenly got switched off and I abruptly pushed her into the alley wall bringing our faces real close to both our comfort levels "Listen to me you little brat and listen good...My fuckin patience is hanging on a thin thread so if you want your annoying little self to stay alive and might I add in one piece I suggest you shut your filthy shithole" I whispered in her ear lowly making her shiver knowing already that no doubt the shiver came purely from the fear she felt from me and not anything sexual..Good....She should fear me I wasn't the one to be trusted I wasn't the one to be loved I am not a person you should take lightly I am the one you don't want to mess with I am the one you don't want to piss off if you don't want your existence to be utterly painful I am Dominick Slade And I am The Outcast......Complete
The experiment.
They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.Complete
If No One Else
𝟏𝟖+| I was said to be 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞... 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. I had heard it so much in my life that it had manifested into a truth that remained rock solid in my brain. It consumed every surface of my body and mind like a deadly cancer It had become a promise to myself. A reminder. A standard. It was a rule applied to every person in my life, except him... He was the same as I was; no matter how different our outside identities were. We were cut from the same cloth on the inside. There was no denying that he and I were both broken souls left in a broken world. Both craving an eternal slumber before we met, but his darkness played so well with mine that suddenly it began feeling more like light, warmth, goodness... a happy ending. "...𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗳 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲... 𝗜 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂," --------------------------- Partying. That was the one thing Chandler did best, and everyone in town knew that. But when one of her parties get out of hand and the cops are called, she's in for a rude awakening as she comes face to face with the new guy in town: Officer Herrera. He's wasn't like the usual officers she dealt with, and she finds that out quite quickly as she gets dragged away to jail for the night. They both wish to never see each other again, but there was something stronger than their dislike for each other keeping them together. The stronger their dislike grows, the more attached they become, until the lines become so blurred that they can't tell the difference between hatred and love anymore. They could say they hated each other, but if anything, a small part of them knew it would turn into love. If that love would last once everything was revealed... It was only a matter of time before they found out. ----
Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.
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