Mental Health
Wilderness-2
I want to strip myself bare And wander through you Without a care Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Strange...
Strangely, I love loneliness... Sometimes it looks like I need an escape from the outside world. The real world needs so much effort to be part of it. You need to be a mother, a wife a cook, a cleaner, a student, a teacher an accountant and so much more. They expect everything to be done by you. Sucking your blood till there is no more left in your veins. Even if you go pale color and can't breathe anymore, they will be there... pushing you. I ask myself: Do they have to care? But I do have to care, that is for sure. That is the exact moment; when I feel exhausted and take a step back. Closing myself inside, in need of some quiet and alone time. Just doing nothing, at least for today. Tired of everything! Tired of that smirking smile that is everywhere. No, at this moment I wanted to kill that smile and let my true self be free.
By Ina Zeneli2 years ago in Poets
No Flowers
No guests, no flowers; that's all she wanted. Sorrow grew like a cancerous tumour, her pain so unfathomable, her mistakes so unforgivable, her regrets, albeit human, allowed shame to steal her hope. Like premeditated thievery, all her doubts and fears broke into her soul, carefully removing bit by bit all of her goodness, all that those around her still saw, was missing. Just gone. Her eyes once playful began to hold the anguish in their reflection; some who cared about her saw it, some who passed by her in the market may have thought, "that woman is tired". Truth is, she was tired. Tired of the fight that everyday life brought her; tired of not just her physical pain, but tired of the redundancies, questions, and the reminders of how not enough she had been.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Poets
Thirty Years A Slave [Dedicated to Those Struggling To Love Themselves]
1. Escaping, to where Body and mind are safe enough, to open up showing the world I am not afraid Chasing this unforgettable dream, that My choices are my own and must remain so, as you will never own me.
By Andrew Little2 years ago in Poets
Time Ticks On
Tick Tick Tick... Why is that all I can hear when I think of what I want to do The stress of wanting to do everything because life is beautiful but not having the means nor confidence to do so feels like I'm in the hourglass, sand falling on my chest weighing me down
By Donny Foley2 years ago in Poets
