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Showing stories tagged with #isolation Clear filter
Inwardly deep. Forever alone. Minds never sleep. Nothing's our own. In darkness we creep. Nowhere is our home. Always reaching. Nothing to touch. Someone preaching. In God they trust.
I once visited a place that was so comforting, I didn't want to leave, could spend my whole day just resting my head there..
The curtains are permanently drawn Always night, there's never a dawn I hear people living a life outside But this is my prison, I hide inside.
For so long, I've been so low, Fighting hard to get my knees off the floor, Stinging tears, Creep down my face, I said that nothing can be done or can be changed, I lie awake, Until I'm numb, Because...
I'm sat all alone. Here in my chair. No ones inside. They've all gone out there. I'm to afraid. To move off my seat. The people they scare me. The ones that I'd meet. I'll crack and I'll crumble.
Today, I woke up feeling just like the days before. I can't breath, can barely speak, and sleeping's a nightmare.
I see you Walking, But to no one Talking, You're all by yourself in the street. Just lonely And tormented, Mad and Demented, Why do you torture yourself and not eat.
It didn't happen like she had thought it would. There were no explosions, no raging fires, no ruptures in the ground... and nothing but silence.
I went for a walk. To get some fresh air. I went through the town. There's nobody there. Where have they gone. Where could they be. I thought to myself. It's just lonely old me.
Alone and bemused Tragically confused As if I'm being used Or maybe I'm accused .
The whirring lights; red and blue, stirred in the rain slipping from the clouds' grasp, jumping diagonally from them, as if trying to escape out as far away as possible.
How are you feeling. A very simple question, To which many can't answer, With an honest confession. You truly wish to know, How I feel inside, To know my thoughts, And the feelings I hide.
Hey everyone, Sorry it's been so long since my last story, I've just been really busy with work experience, college, school, a duke of Edinburgh award, and the business.
Every night she cries herself to sleep. She feels like she has no one but herself. She's been hurt too much to trust anyone again. Her favorite place is her room.
It's horribly quiet on here today...as if some sort of storm is on its way...and all this copyright shit...hmmmm...I understand where people are coming from...don't really want gits nicking my...
I ended my letter with an unintelligible scribble, simultaneously rounded and geometric all in one irregular movement.
The hardest part of life is not having someone beside you who's willing to listen without judgement when you're at your lowest points in life.
She tried to tell them, "I'm hurting," But they only heard, "I'm fine." She pretended she wasn't lonely, None of them read between the lines.
A silent whisper is uttered, none hear it's as if it were stuttered. It's loud and its clear, the only problem being no one wants to hear.
I seem to always hear a silence. As I work there is an absence. In conversation and words to share. I always wonder is anybody there. Alienated and confind all on my own.
Night air. Fresh, summery night air. The distinctive smell is loathed, loved missed and forgotten. City lights descending from the mountain and darkness just within them. Within me.
I step out onto the sandy beach, the evening breeze rustling my blonde curls. No one is in sight at all, which makes me feel surprisingly lonely.
Lacklustre days filled with erratic rain that stain my clothes. What today and tomorrow holds, I already know. I'm on a train to somewhere, for reasons unknown. On a crowded carriage I'm on my own.
Don't forget to smile. I remind my self. Say the words you practised. that's it looking good. just a bit longer. I know there talking. I just don't care what there saying. It looks important.