Snippets
- Reads 22
- Votes 5
- Parts 4
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Sun, Dec 4, 2016
a fraction of the myriad of words that flows through my mind in a glimpse of a second
thoughts placed into tangible form, woven together by letters to form words to form sentences to form paragraphs into emotions unfanthomable
to venture is to step into a mind of a girl who thinks too deeply and too darkly for her age, minds rotting and disintegrating into fragments - pieces of extracts that bleed onto white pages
explore at your own risk, for nobody can undo seeing the monsters in ones head
-
a blend of poetry and prose to portray just a portion of the poison in my mind
please do not take them to heart, for i write even if it's worthless and paint even if it's wordless
content might be triggering to the unique and special
reader's digression is adviced
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
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
Thoughts Of Me, Sorry.
Just everyday, unconventional, uplifting, relatable, sad writings. Take a journey through my head. **warning-may make you unconsciously slip into a corner alone, with sad music drowning you through your headphones**Complete
Mind {Prose Vol. 2}✔
❝In my mind, there is pain. I am exhausted. I feel defeat from my hair tips to my feet- my body feels the stress weighing down on my shoulders. I try and try every day, but nothing seems to go my way. In my mind, there is pain, yet I try because one day, I will feel great. The body, mind, and soul are connected, and it is up to us to determine how to respect them.❞ - Me These writings are my observations and perspectives, some full of laughter and fun, others painful and dark, suffocating, leaving me with nowhere to run. ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ A collection of unedited poems I wrote extemporaneously (ages 16-18), as well as a chockfull of quotes. This books contains my: Poems 105- & Quotes 96-175. Formerly known as: ❛My Poems and Quotes Book (Vol. II),❜ 2017-2020. Volume Two of My Poems and Quotes. Feel free to check out Volume I, labelled as ❛Body,❜ on my profile. Don't forget to vote and comment; I love engaging with you guys! :D ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿Complete
amnesia
a look into a life falling to piecesComplete
Release
This is a collection of my writing from the past 7 years. Before I started to write, I was a very lost individual, as are most teens, but I was lost in darkness. I was too afraid to move anywhere at all. I hid in the dark, debilitated by my own anxiety, sadnesses, anger, and hopelessness. I was desperate to be loved and feared it the most, I was a coward, I was self-destructive, I would mentally bend my thoughts to the point of bordering insanity. I was born into this world alone, and got too comfortable with it. Maybe I still am, but a fraction of what I used to be. This writing is extremely vulnerable, and potentially disturbing to others, as all my weaknesses, strengths, obsessions with making every moment sentimental, the sickening desperation I've had, the destructiveness, and the constant brutal reconstruction of my mind. Without guidance, it's been absolute intense chaos. Though, there is beauty in the darkness. Everything can be found in the darkness. You'll find that through my writing, I've somehow slowly become exactly what I've written. A living representation of my writing and what I wanted to be. Without myself even knowing it. A lot of my writing themes are based around nature, or some kind of natural aspect. The imagery I paint with natural metaphors is constant, the animals, just like you and I, the plants, and all other living things. I planted these seeds in my mind, unknowingly at the time, where I now feel the deep dark green jungle pressing at the inner walls of my skull. It's all that I want to consume my mind. There's so much to learn. The magic of nature, and it's infinite wisdom. It's as if I have been on this path all along, and I didn't even know what I was doing, yet my body and mind were passively taking care of me. Giving me and eventually showing exactly what I want, and wanted to become. I have every moment, every instance of suffering, and every epiphany to be thankful for. Soon, I'll be at peace from the raging storm.Complete
Rose thorns || The Rose Trilogy || Editing
This book doesn't follow a common theme; it's simply a collection of whatever came to mind. Ever wanted to step into the mind of a delusional teenager? Wondered if what you felt wasn't just a "you" thing? Well, you might be in the right place... unfortunately. But hey, no shame in that. Just be prepared for some utter monstrosities. These poems were written when I was around 13 to 15 years old. Please don't assume that these reflect who I am today. Best rankings: #303 out of 343k | Poetry | 2024 #150 out of 37.2k | Poetrycollection | 2024 #167 out of 13.6k | mentaldisorder | 2024 #8 out of 588 | intrusivethoughts | 2024 #469 out of 33.4k | breakup | 2024 #2 out of 13 | monstrosities | 2024Complete
D R O W N
we want to burn and die to fill the page as delicate words and memories and what we want what we need in life is more poetry and less pain but it's only a glimpse into a forbidden world a beautiful scene sharp to the touch so take your look if you can bear it so take my hand if you will hold it and taste the words ------------------------------------------------------ some rhyme less poetry and mindless murmurings for you to drown in. all of these poems are regrets, things i wish i said to people but never could.Complete
Fabled - Short Stories
A collection of my short stories and writing!
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.
More detailsContent Guidelines