Lost To The Winds
- Reads 47
- Votes 1
- Parts 9
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Whisper of Silence |✓
Trapped. Surrounded on all sides by an overpowering barrier visible only to you. A barrier consisting of your thoughts, your dreams, your hopes, separating you from the rest of the world. Thoughts struggling to escape, the memories vivid in your head. You're trying to push back the flood of emotion, trying to break down that wall that's separating you from the judgement that awaits you at the other side. Your fears captivate you and morph you into a new person entirely. Surrounded on all sides and breaking into cold perspiration. Enveloping you is that same fear, gripping at your heart. You stand still hoping for the storm to back down, hoping for another chance. Sooner or later you're faced with reality and you'll know there's no turning back. All that remains is a whisper of silence.Complete
Poetry For The Queer and Mentally Ill
Freestyle Poetry 🙂
love and such
Me: how can i help? My heart: write the poemsComplete
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Some poems I've written and had nothing else to do with them. I hope you enjoy them. Most of them are sad, so this is a warning! I'd be very grateful if you'd leave comments about them and maybe even suggestions! Thanks for reading!Complete
Cold Nights ||Poems||
Sometimes I just need a way to express how I feel when I can't put it into words, I'm sure we all feel that way whether you're a teen or young adult. Mental health deserves to be heard, you deserve to be heard.Complete
Nobody Was Meant to See
[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-Complete
4. Memories and Feelings That Still Haunt Me
I've cried too hard for too long as I debated death. Over and over, all I wanted was a quick overdose, a quick way to escape the pain. Until the guilt set it and made me realise, suicide feels too selfish. Instead I turned my sadness into art and my pain into strength. Desperately wanting to carve up my skin, I bled on a page. My screams are silent, hidden behind closed doors, And computer screens. All these horrible emotions kept secret in notebooks. I'm too afraid to speak about it, so I write it down That's how my poetry is made. ~The birth of poetry -Me ____ First place in 2021 Irenic Awards poetry catergory Highest rankings: #16 original work #2 relapsingComplete
because i loved him
Completed ✔ The words c u t like a knife, stabbing her so d e e p l y so cruel But she was already dead.Complete
Trapped. Surrounded on all sides by an overpowering barrier visible only to you. A barrier consisting of your thoughts, your dreams, your hopes, separating you from the rest of the world. Thoughts struggling to escape, the memories vivid in your head. You're trying to push back the flood of emotion, trying to break down that wall that's separating you from the judgement that awaits you at the other side. Your fears captivate you and morph you into a new person entirely. Surrounded on all sides and breaking into cold perspiration. Enveloping you is that same fear, gripping at your heart. You stand still hoping for the storm to back down, hoping for another chance. Sooner or later you're faced with reality and you'll know there's no turning back. All that remains is a whisper of silence.
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