Thousands of free stories. Support your favorites when you're ready.
Showing stories tagged with #recovery Clear filter
These blisters, these bruises, These scars tell a story. They document the moment My life became gory. I hated myself. I hated my skin. With such a self-loathing, Nobody could win. Pain meant control.
I haven't been using Opuss regularly of late. There are reasons. Internet bans, my iPod crashing, lack of inspiration. But it was mainly because lately I've been feeling pretty damn rough.
Chapter 16 It's been almost two weeks and we still haven't found anything that would help his memory. We're starting to think its hopeless...
Escape is found In a variety of muses; Music, art, words... And mine is none of the three Mine are a bottle, a bowl, and blade.
Pulling on pyjamas, Opening a bottle of beer, Cutting up dinner, Trying to wash my hair, The kitchen's new decoration, Most of a tin of soup, Asking him to help me, That's now just on a loop.
(We're are back being Renesmee.) Renesmee POV The water pushed and pulled the tide getting faster I couldn't grasp what was going on why I couldn't wake up. I knew this was a dream.
Coughs & sneezes Tissues & meds All I want is to lie in my bed Congestion, it spreads From my head to my chest All I seem to want is endless rest Sure there's things to do, But I want better...
I've just recently got likes on a old Opuss .. It's called 'Cutting' I wrote it months ago .. I barely remember. My life has changed so much for the better. I was lost in despair.
Just laying in your arms Taking it easy like the dr said You wooing me with all your loving charms Even making sure I'm fed.
I made a mess of myself again, (Regret, shame, regret) It doesn't help; pain never eases pain, (Regret, shame, regret) It takes me ever further away, (Freak, loser, freak) I'll deal with my problems...
She had a canvas. Her only paint brush was a knife and her body was the canvas. She made many marks but it wasn't beautiful. She did that on purpose, only to make herself look the way she felt inside.
I wasn't planning to go out that night But was convinced by 'just a few' I fell in love just instantly The second that I saw you In you I saw beauty Joy, unbridled passion I also liked the good...
I just want to quickly point out, that these chapters can get quite harsh and unpleasant quite quickly, so younger and more sensitive readers please be aware.
My thanks to those who held me near, To those who told me that they care, To those who could only smile, and perhaps just sit with me a while.
There, there, my darling Rest your weary head Let me put cbeebies on While you lay in bed It must have been awful A terrible ordeal I can't even imagine How your meat and veg must feel Of course...
Her arm lay there, Streaked with white, Scars laced her skin, They shone with moonlight, She raised the knife, Ready to cut, To unleash the pain, That had been building up, She looked down at her...
Outside is fear Inside is steady Outside is the unknown Inside I'm ready Outside I panic and double up in pain ...
Please don't kill the butterflies, They're only ink, I know, But they all stand for much, much more, Each one is in the know.
Sorry so short but a lot of info Part 15 Bobbys POV. Alonzo fully progressed in health and was soon sent home.
- @blackknight - @hannahXOX - - - - Zach hid under his duvet, he'd been there for several days, not wanting to move, not wanting to think.
I looked up in the darkness Lying in my bed Lonely, lost and broken All my tears were shed The things that I once lived for Pale in comparison To what I steal and beg for The wrongs that I have done.
I had no legs. It left me crippled. The accident in scotland. Around the town it rippled. A van lost control. Us school kids were hit. But all my teachers tell me. I still have my wit.
Huvudvärken tränger sig på Jag vet varför de blir så Blundar hårt för att slippa se Herr ångest som på återbesök é Jag kippar efter luft, pärlor av svett "kom så leker vi på mitt lilla sätt" Hans...
We're not in Eden anymore. It's not hidden inside a packet, or a pill box or a glass bottle. No longer is the heartache worth the fruit's allure - The poppies are withering, the grasses now barren.