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Ghostwriter

By fablesmyth

848 138 13

Living with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams... More

the struggles of being dead
midnight starlight
bring it on
must've been the wrong channel
ghosts can't speak to strangers
ghostwriter
if i hadn't died so young
if i were paid for thinking, i'd be rich by now
lost in a sea of dreams
how do you open doors?
the girl who loved the world
guardian in the shade
if only i could: part 1
numb
if only i could: part 2
just a little longer
one of these days i'll remember to lock that door
just let me vibe
i'm really not interested
vividity in motion
fuck, not again
i think winter loves me too
the seas that calm with time
once upon a time
explore the ruins, then leave them in peace
a work of art in progress
wild child
if ever i'm reborn
my shadow is still a part of me, right?
the man called daedalus
the hearth is where the heart is
not wise, just observant
objection!
each adventure taken is a lesson learned
my demons do not frighten me for i am their general
timeless wanderer
queries of a curious mind
despair is an easy ending to find
hope takes a little more forethought
a warning to the worriers
carried by the breeze
sunlight's secrets
hey google, how do i become immortal?
earth is owned by no one so why can't i see it?
peace is a choice, not a given
the side with more support will win the war
honey, hold my funeral while i've still got the balls
even if i left, who's there to talk to?
the lies you make twist fate to hate
mirror, mirror, on the wall, why do you hate me?
thief of the highlands
history often repeats itself for those who fail to listen
baneful blaze
some things can't be changed
how to summon ghosts
i bet gen z will get this
from "voodoo you" to "you do you"
though each season is necessary, we take time for granted
i wasn't always this anxious i swear
the hand we were dealt
history's cart has rolled over the same path too many times
one man's path is another's bane
life doesn't need justification
what does it mean to be human?
neverland
blessed be the temple of my soul
ode to the empaths
alice, alice, what have you done?
may my skin be my armor
capitalism at its finest
oh, how far we've come!
simulated life
who decides what is divine?
the forgotten question: need versus want
game over: wipe memory and try again?
faulty wires
life's not all 1's and 0's
the american dream, starring capitalism
how the trees grow
mix me a potion
off limits
quarantine
the waiting game
peaceful still
a list of oddly beautiful things
start, pause, begin
slow day dreaming
isolated
business as usual
autumn, i miss you
summer blues
dreambubble
lunar goddess
the path that disappears
independence day, 2020
hush...
the humble moth's journey
heavy symphony
soundless
the stars once told me
not every poem has words
uncertain times will surely bring change
let the light in
telepathic translator wanted
take your time, hun
content in the little things that push me forward
love me dearly
don't give up, i believe in you!
calm after the storm
dysphoria
when there's nothing left to eat, eat the rich
you'll find your dream in due time
quest for silver linings
man, i really hope whoever needs this can find it
the choice is yours
check for imposters
one step at a time
keep children in your thoughts
bow down to our corporate overlords
reach for the future, learn from the past
inner garden
if a rich man reads this book when no one's around, did they really read it?
summer stopwatch
2 a.m.
remember when...?
are we chasing dreams, or do they chase us?
in desperate need of chill
ladies you are all strong and beautiful. don't settle for less than you deserve.
since when do we get hurricanes in iowa??

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Ghostwriter

Poetry

Living with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams, fears, wishes, and regrets all compile...

bravetogether dissociation healing mentalhealth poetry texttospeech

may my skin be my armor

5 2 0
By fablesmyth

The insults hurled, I can no longer feel,
for those who've been stabbed a thousand times
cease to perceive the sting of a papercut
with no true weight behind it.

Continue Reading

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