FALLEN TO DEEPππ
- LECTURAS 37
- Votos 5
- Partes 3
Contenido adultoContinΓΊa9m
Γltima publicaciΓ³n jue, dic 29, 2016
******** TRIGGERING ********
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Letters to the ones u think about everyday.
Some short story that expressed the way i feel.
I just want to start writing something.
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Something Mending -- VOL 1
Of Breaking hearts, young love, betrayal and pain. Of Mending hearts, familiar pain, unexpected hurt and aftermath. Of Healing hearts, underated heartache, pain and acceptance. Of Love, Love that is as deep sea. Pain, that knows no bounds. Strength, that exist within time, but lasts forever. Of Sadness, sadness that always returns, Of Trauma, trauma that runs in deep, and the art of dying, every time. Of Scribbles and rambles, unsaid words and sealed pain. Of Life, Love, Pain, Sadness, Trauma. Of the art of rising like a phoenix, every time. Of Anxiety and Paranoia. Of Anything bad, Of Everything good. This is a story of a girl, it's a continuous one. A story of a sad girl, very lonely, but beautiful, intelligent and strong. She's a self sabotaging narcissistic girl, but also a talented, skilled and brave girl. She is riddled with anxiety and depression, but somehow finds ways to get up each morning, thinking of beautiful things. She has loved and lost, hurt and being hurt. She has not lost herself, but she has not find herself either. This is the life of a girl, laid before you in poems and thoughts. Here is a piece of me, and in here, undoubtedly, you will find pieces of yourself too. I am a mess, but aren't we all? | formerly SOMETHING BROKEN |Concluida
KNOW ME
I know you cry with silent tears, I know you lock yourself up so as not to make anyone feel bad, I know that you hide your demons under a smile, And you go through life terrified by what your mind treads And it tears your heart. But don't drown in you, Take out your tears Without Fear. The people who really love you It won't sink in your stormy sea And it won't let you sink, either And maybe I can't save you, But swim with you, And it's always goof to have someone to swim with. So please... StayConcluida
Meraki // Poetry & Short Stories
A collection of short little stories or ramblings I write when I'm bored or spontaneously inspired :)) β’ random updates β’ warnings posted above any chapters that need one β’ beware of triggering poems/stories β’ im a sad bean sometimes β’Concluida
Someone New β
"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 overboardConcluida
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. β’β’β’β’β’β’β’β’β’β’β’ β Warnings β οΈ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ DepressionConcluida
Me Working Through It
Just a bunch of poems I write to help get through life. You can see my journey through anxiety, friendships, relationships, sexuality confusion, family nonsense and depression. You might relate. I love comments (including grammar corrections). I do not own the artwork, I give credit to the artist when I can find it. I do own the poems so please give me credit and all that stuff. I do doubt anyone would be using my poetry for anything but anyway. I have a new book titled 'You.' which you'll be able to find in my account. I will only be updating that book from now on instead of this one as this one is completed.Concluida
Unspoken Poetry
β οΈTrigger Warningβ οΈ if any of the tagged things are sensitive to read about or makes you feel uncomfortable, please do not read! I'd hate to be the reason you feel either way.Concluida
Metamorphasize
This is a collection of poems written as a way to control a person's feelings; originally they were never intended to be seen by human eyes. This is written from the point of view of someone who struggles with emotional turmoil but feels they cannot tell others about it because their afraid it might drag them into the same torture they feel everyday. Depression is a serious thing that plagues our world and this is one of many ways it can affect a person. Too many people act like this doesn't exist or its a style but its not its a serious issue people have become desensitized to. When this book was first published it climbed its way to #1 in depression, to my dismay I took it down hoping to find a publisher that would be willing to work with me (of course no progress has been made) ALL poems in this book have a trigger warning but if there is *** in the title than its a suggestion and an extra precaution to not read it if you are at risk of becoming triggered. TRIGGER WARNING!!!! FOR ANYONE WHO DEALS WITH DEPRESION OR HAS DEALT WITH IT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! There is cursing in some parts of this!!!! IF AT ANY POINT YOU FEEL TRIGGERED OR NEED HELP CONTACT THE CRISIS HOTLINE AT 741741Concluida
For My Soul
Everyone says that healing is a personal journey- that you must be self-sufficient and independent... but well- historically that just does not happen. Healing has always been done by or with a community. So, when River and Amelia are constantly pushed together by their friends- as they clash and then work to form a friendship that turns into so much more- what happens when maybe the path to healing is not so simple as ticking off Amelia's self-care checklist, what happens when both Amelia and River find themselves needing each other in more ways than one? Relationships sustain us, but they also destroy us. Can both find the trust that they need to love each other healthily?
Words that speak from the heart
I have trouble speaking my emotions or talking to others so I write Poems and short stories from my heart
Of Breaking hearts, young love, betrayal and pain. Of Mending hearts, familiar pain, unexpected hurt and aftermath. Of Healing hearts, underated heartache, pain and acceptance. Of Love, Love that is as deep sea. Pain, that knows no bounds. Strength, that exist within time, but lasts forever. Of Sadness, sadness that always returns, Of Trauma, trauma that runs in deep, and the art of dying, every time. Of Scribbles and rambles, unsaid words and sealed pain. Of Life, Love, Pain, Sadness, Trauma. Of the art of rising like a phoenix, every time. Of Anxiety and Paranoia. Of Anything bad, Of Everything good. This is a story of a girl, it's a continuous one. A story of a sad girl, very lonely, but beautiful, intelligent and strong. She's a self sabotaging narcissistic girl, but also a talented, skilled and brave girl. She is riddled with anxiety and depression, but somehow finds ways to get up each morning, thinking of beautiful things. She has loved and lost, hurt and being hurt. She has not lost herself, but she has not find herself either. This is the life of a girl, laid before you in poems and thoughts. Here is a piece of me, and in here, undoubtedly, you will find pieces of yourself too. I am a mess, but aren't we all? | formerly SOMETHING BROKEN |
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