Блог
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About me
Особисте
Hii! My name is Abigail. I like writing books and poetry. I will mostly be writing poetry in this app. My poetry is mainly about girls and how they are strong but they can also be about strong relationships.
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What should I do about my book?
Думки вголос, Потрібна допомога, Питання
I am thinking of publishing each chapter as a book since they are each about 15 Google doc pages long. Which is quite lengthy. What do you guys think I should do? Especially since this book will take an incredible amount of time.
About my books
Різне
My book is a fantasy. I love writing and I am writing a couple more books. Some are fantasy, some are realistic fiction. The Domains series is a fantastical series and I have been writing this for about 2 years. There has been a bunch of editing and story changing. This has been a long going process and it is still going but I hope you guys like it!!
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Книги
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Вірші
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Thin Stitches
He walked on the sidewalk
She looked at his shadow that followed him faithfully,
Then he looked up,
Their eyes met,
They glanced away,
Because they couldn’t rekindle the memory again,
Ripping the thin stitch they created to seam away their worst memories
-A
Postscript and unnecessary to the poem:
What I was trying tell in this poem is a story about two people who have been hurt by eachother and even though they love eachother, their are obstacles that they're too scared of getting through. Their are things that words can't sort out and love can't defend, so they decided to close it off. Sometimes, the path of indifference is the most painful but most efficient.
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Hidden
I smile
I laugh
I help
I fake it all
I have gone through years without a blink of hesitation
As I smile
As I laugh
As I help,
my heart chips away, bit by bit
Nothing I do is real anymore
I have no one to comfort me when I cry
So I pretend instead
I pretend that all things are good and happy, my negative emotions stored away in a warehouse of old things I don’t need anymore
So when I leave the comfort of my house, my tears dry, my heart is devoid of emotion and my fake smile is plastered onto my face
So when I go to school I smile like I would after years of practice
So when I go to lunch I laugh like nothing is wrong
So when I sit down in the classroom I help other students like I understand what is going on
But when I come home, the facade is over
When I come home, all the walls I build break and crumble, leaving a pile of rubble
When I lay down on my bed, a slow trickle of tears meets my pillow
My chest heaves and my heart asks why it holds such a burden
My eyes burn and my stomach churns at the prospect of keeping my true self hidden away
I drift away from this world, making up it’s own fantasies and dreams
I drown in the beauty of a story and my heart begins to pump again
My stomach has calmed down, my chest beats as it usually does
And my mind swirls
And so I remember,
My heart may be cracked and broken and jagged, but it is still beating and that is all that matters
-A
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Little Princess Dolls
Note: This is was based off a historical genre. Thus, some of the things written here will not match with modern ideas and laws. Also there are sensitive topics that I would like to mention beforehand. Thank you for reading:
They were little girls with small cute teddy bears and ankle length princess dresses that sparkled in the light,
They too dreamed of their handsome prince riding into the night
They had tiaras and necklaces that were plastic and dull,
But why were they smiling there and not now
When they have real necklaces that glitter with jewels and long dresses with lace and diamonds,
Why were they crying in their rooms,
Shouting for someone to care for them too
Was it their husbands who could’ve been their age times 2 or was it because they hit their faces with 3 other woman licking his shoes
Was it the way they had been sold off for money,
Or the way they had been dirtied,
They had their dresses, and looked quite fabulous too,
But really, they couldn't breathe because of their corset, and couldn’t walk because of their heels,
They were slaving away while another more lucky, was with her prince, the one that never came, and instead had ridden into the night
Without another look back
-Abigail
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