A.L.E.X. (Inter.)

A.L.E.X. (Inter.)

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing36m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Aug 9, 2024
----------Votes/Comments are much appreciated ---------- The art of pleasure and pain is just that...an ART. And in-between the madness and chaos of the thin strokes and bright opaque colors is a masterpiece more profoundly beautiful than the eyes can see. A beauty beyond understanding. A passion that is driven by lust and uncertainty. A memoir of a lost love and a new flame, an unimaginable desire hidden in the dark. It is a secret only told by parched lips. It is named A.L.E.X -Pages of my diary ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥
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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 relapsing

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