Freeyourmind Stories

Million Thoughts. 4 Walls. 21 Days. 1 Batshit ball of a virus

/ A collection of poems/ They have lit me up like cigarettes, their words like fire, burning be down to ashes. From ashes to dust, they have burnt me alive, turned me to a toxic waste. -a.d.

I hear rhymes in my mind, all the time. Hope you enjoy a piece of my mind :)):)

We're all damaged, and we all need to be saved and healed. I don't mean saved and healed as in religiously. I mean emotionally and mentally. No one, though, is going to be your savior. You must save yourself. Enough of the waiting and complacently sitting, waiting for some dumbass in tin foil (female, male, doesn't matter- still a dumbass in tin foil). Change it. Fix yourself. Save yourself. This is my journey on saving myself. Fixing myself. Healing myself. Feel free to join the ride. Maybe, just maybe, on the way, you'll save yourself, too.

This is a book where you can freely debate on anything from world matters to book plots. You can freely speak your mind, and will not be judged. If I see any hate at all, your comment will be blocked and you may be reported. Just debate in the comments, and please, please put in requests. I will act as middle ground, and I expect people to back up claims with logic. I WILL look up any facts you put.

A poem about you should free your mind and not let your mind be in bondage

you're so popular, have you noticed? everyone knows you, yet no one likes you. you're the friend of a friend that tags along and doesn't know when to head home. you're not human--in every possible meaning of that word. so, forgive me for the bad language. dear insecurity, f**k you. where i write to my insecurity.

Depression and mental illness Poems or spoken word. ❌MAY HAVE A TRIGGER WARNING ❌

Alyssa Marks can't seem to let go. Warning: I wrote this when I was 13/14 and have done minimal editing since then, but that doesn't mean you should hold back any constructive criticism to spare my feelings. Fire away:) Also, I am currently rewriting this. In all honesty, this is rewritten draft #4 of the story and am planning on posting the final draft (yes that would be the 5th version of this story) by the end of July 2018. This book is very personal to me and parallels my own dealings with grief. I just want it to be as close to perfect as possible.

Tonight is not the night I'm letting go. I'm not letting go of you. • highest ranking #497 in Short Story - 08/14/17 COMPLETE ✔

❛ her reality was just a figment of her imagination. his reality was almost too real, but it was that she was in it that made it seem as though it was a dream. together, between self-loathing, suicidal ancedotes, and their anxiety-stricken auras, will they find that their both their realities are anything but fictitious. and it all happens under a peach tree. but, every story must have a twist. ❜ ❦ (i'd just like to inform you all that this story is based on my life and my personality and traits, in a way, but like it says in the description, there's a twist.) ━ lowercase intended. #freementalillness #freeyourbody #selflove © sadisms 2017 all rights reserved

The feeling brought through writing

she shined so bright when she walked in a room, as her soul was as firey as her hair. and he took her flame away.

"sometimes being free means choosing to stay." Haley Sloane Wilder is ready to leave her hometown the moment her bank account strikes the right digits. With a year left to reach her goal, Haley is barely hanging on as she struggles to live in this place deep rooted with a burning past. But sometimes, it only takes one person to change the whole town. And perhaps, a certain boy called Declan "Matt" Reeves might do just that.

"-no body does it like you do." [ a collection of short stories ]

This is my latest poetry book that contains the word freedom. What is freedom? What does this word mean to us, who are struggling with certain situations that affect us here and now? Is freedom a positive word, or a negative word? See yourself and find out.

I watch her as she stares at me. I've never noticed how her brown eyes glow in the light. I had never noticed much about her until now. I mutter a few choice words that would probably have my mother rolling in her grave. She knows now. The nobody knows the one thing I've never even wanted my father to know. She begins to speak but it comes out a jumbled mess. It's kind of cute actually. Before I could open my mouth, she sprints out the door. I walk quickly from the piano over to the doorway to see that she had dropped something. Feeling the soft brown leather cover, I open up to the first page. "Dear, diary."

We all want to leave our footprints in the sand of time. So why not live forever through literature? Aspire to be the next Nicholas Sparks or even William Shakespear? Well, this awards is the place for you.

She's his biggest fan. So he becomes hers. dedicated to @azurenights

i like words. so i write them. now you have to read them. cover by -daisukii