Mind & Soul
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Contenu pour adultesEn cours d'écriture<5 mins
Dernière publication jeu., juil. 16, 2020
I've been writing this for 4 years now and this is just a collection of my thoughts and feelings from over the years. Most of these are written at my low points in life, so they aren't glitter and rainbows, but I hope maybe reading some of this will give you peace at mind and remind you that you are not alone. You are never alone.
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Cold Water
[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ DepressionTerminé
The book of poetry
This is a collection of poems from my feelings and every day life, emotions, past and so forth. Read as you want and tell me your thoughts!
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My Internal Junkyard.
Highest ranking #4 in poetry (17/09/16) Hi, This is a 365 day self evaluation project. I think I am degradation because of the junk filled in my head. So I let it out here in form of poetry. My grey matter is weird, troubled yet pretty cool. Read if you like. Thank you. ----------------------------------------------------------- PS : i was 16 -17 (2016-2017) when i wrote and published these be kind -2025 editTerminé
Live Outside
*COMPLETED* Over the years, I'd written many pieces of writing, and shared barely a fraction of them here. As of 2022, I found myself back here again, and in dire need of somewhere to write, and somewhere to share it. This is a collection of poems covering various states of emotion throughout a journey of healing, along with a few of my best from years before. I hope you all enjoy the journey I took through writing all of this.Terminé
Running Screaming
For 25 year old Amara Danvers, her life had gone to hell. She was stuck in an abusive relationship with a man who she loved but no longer wanted to be with. Trapped in a state far away from her family, no one to rely on. Her boyfriend's family shunned and ostracized her, looked the other way as she was repeatedly abused... Can life go on like this? What happens when everything... Even the tables change in a single night? "I don't want to live like this anymore!" "Then don't live. No one will ever love you." "Please! Stop hurting me! What did I do to deserve this?" "Ask yourself that... No one wants you. You deserve this. You'll never find anyone better." When the wheels stop spinning and everything goes dark.... "GET RID OF IT!" "STOP YOU'RE HURTING ME!" Will she have the strength to survive? To walk away? This is NOT a work of fiction. This is Real. This happened. This happened specifically to me. I am just telling my story. Names have been changed. Warning ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ This story depicts: Abuse Depression Trauma Recovery Unplanned Pregnancy Self Harm PTSD Mature themes Domestic Violence Please, if any of this is triggering, this is not for you. This is going to be very deep, depicting heavy trauma and I would rather you not read it if it is counterproductive to your mental health! If you are going through ANY of this, please contact your local domestic abuse hotline OR pm me and I will try to find you help.Terminé
Noah (Obsessions in Overdrive #1)
I've always had a feeling that I would die young. Ever since I started pondering on deaths door I've had this feeling. I could care less about the hell and heaven shenanigans, but death. I want it. The end of my life. I want to be in my suit, in my coffin, in the ground and my soul to be gone. I've been waiting for 16 years, yet no sign of death opening his door no matter how many times I ring his doorbell. Yeah, I enjoy thinking about my end. Especially at moments like this... *** #1 physical #1 cuteguys #1 addiction #2 self-esteem *** Started: 7 November 2022 Finished: 18 April 2024Terminé
It's Okay to Use Your Big Girl Voice
Inside you will find a mixture of both, extremely RAW and refreshingly HEALING accounts of my personal war with my past. Unfortunately, Childhood sexual abuse is far too common, and many of share similar experiences. Looking back, what I could have used more than anything was someone to tell me "You're not alone, there is a lightness through the darkness, you can heal from this and most importantly don't EVER stop telling your story to make others comfortable". I've learned that silence is the best weapon for a predator, and I for one, have never been really good at doing what I'm told. I don't intend on starting now. I wear my scar as reminder that I hold the power in my own story, it is mine to tell and I won't make myself sick keeping quiet because my truths are hard to swallow, other people's comfort is not my problem. My Goal is rather simple, to let the readers know, they too are not alone. If you are a survivor, even if you still feel like a victim, this is my personal message to you. "You are strong, and it wasn't your fault. Tell someone... tell anyone...tell everyone... We shift from victims to survivors when we speak up and tell our stories. There's nothing wrong with you, and the light will shine again. The longer you sit in silence the more power your abuser still holds over you, wipe your face warrior, because there's a lion right inside of you, DONT EVER GIVE UP!" *This story is FULL of TRIGGERS, please be careful reading if triggers are hard for you, your mental health matters* *I own all the Rights to all parts of this book*
Why You
Just poems. Some poems that I have written and others from the internet. If you would like to send me poems, I will dedicate that page to you. Or if you want to stay anonymous that's fine, too. Poems that I have wrote will have a '*' at the end. Please don't steal my own poems, because I worked hard on them. If you do choose to steal MY works, I am hurt. Use your own inspiration and creativity, please, it's not very hard (edit: it is very hard) ;) The poems that I have not written belong to there rightful owners. I will not be taking credit for them.Terminé
Someone New ✓
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboardTerminé
[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ Depression
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