New beginnings

Throw the beginning, the start, the origin at me this time,
and watch me blossom like a marigold in the sunshine.
Striding through those iron-plated gates,
watching as words in these fading walls decide our fates.
Reveal your shadow from under the willow tree,
and plunge it into a world where it can be free.

Dressed for success with a smile on my face,
I am the first to cross that line in the race.
‘What race?’ I hear you cry.
Why the race to demonstrate how hard we try.
Try to defeat those demons inside,
showing that they are not worth the hours I’ve cried.
Recovering all the happiness that has died.
The danger is the same in every book on these dusty shelves,
if others wreck us, or we wreck

Starting the day with not knowing what the dawn has in store,
we venture through life, finding the reason we are living for.
Companionship is all that I require of those people rushing past,
to find others who would make those memories last.

Today we tip-toe closer to unveiling what is written,
healing the scars of what has already bitten.
The poison has already wounded the brain,
but by losing we have everything left to gain.
The past has left us and tucked us away,
so learn its lessons and direct your own way.

Head high, shoulders back,
defending against what life has got to attack.
Morphing into the person we wished we could be,
this is the time I can finally represent me.
Hoping that others will accept who I am,
I will no longer fall for my own selfless scam.
This is me now I have changed my whole perception,
I am now an accurate reflection,
of my personality without deception.

So to the new beginnings waiting for me at the other side,
I welcome them and take it upon my stride.
For, without the turning over of that new leaf,
we would be stuck not knowing what lies for us underneath.




The darkness

My dreams lay on the floor like shattered glass, reflecting back the reality of my soul. What once had lighted my path through the forest crumbled before my eyes and inside. The light to your darkness; the hero to your villan; the sun to your moon was vanquished to dust. The ashes were scattered like confettee, small, meaningless and thrown into nothing.

Corrupted hopes and false generated expectations stayed as the last point of salvation, though they are what caused the despair to grow from the pit of your stomach to the brain in this skull. Every black has its white and every yin has its yang, you are the blanket to my shadowed town. The blanket fell and choked and suffocated, stopping a single anxious breath from escaping these lifeless lips. Death could not come upon her. She had the cause of dusk planted in her being; her heart was just beating. Hiccups of blood colouring her cheeks, showing signs of life behind those blurred windows, and disappeared.

The midnight morning which was sewn onto their faces twisted with the thunder that erupted from within them. Stuck in the hurricane of deceit, spinning right back to where it first began, the moment the rite of passage forced its way through this innocent soul.

Life is a single tree which spurts up from the ground for limited hours that are counted on the frail fingers of men and then is destroyed and replaced. The bloody ghost wanders around and around, searching, hunting, wishing for the answers. But the remains have been disposed of. It never existed.

For she had turned cold. Her body had been sculpted out of ice, a living embodiment of glaciers and deep within the chest beated her empty ice heart. She was supposed to be alive, but all that seemed to escape from her faded lips was breath after breath after breath.

The town

The sunset of my dusty town was eternal; twisting the trees into an inanimate, ghost landscape. The blanket of darkness suffocated the silent, sombre sky and strangled the suburban streets. Nothing was left. The ash from survival hung around in the air choking anyone who dare enter, so eventually desertion fell over the town. The town was isolated; the town was cornered. Callous decay plagued the tenebrous town. Only the bare branches that terrorised the travellers were punctured into the barren earth remained to keep the town company. Sometimes they cried and tears fell formed as coloured leaves staining the ground; remorseful wind swept away the scars and left nothing as evidence for the conflict.

Desolation, isolation crying out for some occupation, holding out for some communication into dusk. But nothing happens. What ever comes will always find some other future in another conventional mother town and doesn’t bother to sneak a peak over their shoulder because they are scared of the dark. But darling, even day is tucked away by the night. The heavenly body of the horison seeks shelter beneath the mountains for fear of colliding with the source of all evil. Silence.

Silence. Howling wind brings with it the pack who settle in the midnight sky and illuminate the atmosphere with its bright, white glow. The darkness lives.

When, from beyond the curtained ceiling an auroral energy observes through the crack and with no monstrous thoughts affecting, ripped apart the shield of shadows. Turning the dark to blaze, exposure befell the soul of the town. This town was free? Walls collapsed. The trembling city fell to its knees. The dehydrated clouds began to weep and weep they began until the liquid washed away marks of destruction. The manacles that clamped the town had been ruptured and the merciless wounds were exposed to an ambience of serenity.

An abundance of colour erupted from the crack in the most radiant veridian green and neptune bluer than the circassian sea. The bleak town was flooded. Guardian colours painted the buildings and stained the roads; the blackout had perished. The forsaken town which was choked by darkness had been released of its hold. Colours burnished the town making it sing at the top of its lungs. The abandoned town heaved. It inhaled a hopeless breath and released hope from the tension. Sanctuary was restored; freedom air flew over like doves and with a hint of fairydust in their beaks, crystallised the supernatural crescent into a brilliantly lit medium of silver.

Gliding from within the damage in the mystical, ultramarine sky glittered with silver stars, on a stream of angelic holiness, floated down a petite being. Chocolate brown eyes smiled and rosy cheeks -as if drawn on with felt tip- glimmered, fully intensified with the healing light that had invaded the town. It smiled a gleaming smile without saying anything and skipped off the silver-lined cloud that had transported it down. Jaunting through the streets, it halted at the entrance to the deepest part of the soul: the forest.

Clapping its hands and twirling around and around, rainbows of light emerged from within the spirit of the presence and burst out into the lifeless jungle. The dyes lit up the cynical woods and contaminated every last ghostly tree; originating from the fingers within the soil and finishing at the hair on top. The magical colours sprinted to heal and restore the natural order. Fuchsia, amethyst, scarlet, aquamarine lept up and smeared itself onto the carcass making sure not to leave a trace. No darkness remained.

The being emerged victorious a gleaming grin crept upon its wonderful face. Not looking back, running through the town, the next destination was a grim cottage hut minute enough to house the being. Cautiously, the wooden door was opened and the delightful fairy pranced into the chestnut haven and never departed.

The spirit of the fairy was enough to break the confinement of tremendous wrath. Destroy almost all the chains of darkness. Deep within the depths in the northern-eastern element of the town, within a white, snowy mountain lay a crystal device that was beating. The frosty covering suspended majestically over the organ of humanity, protecting it from harm. Little did it know: the heart was melting; the heart was screaming; the heart was drowning. There rested, huddled up, my empty ice heart bruised and stitched from the wounds that carved it. There lay the source to the blackness. The black screen which ridiculed this mysterious town was caused by the polluted heart tucked away into a snowflake bed. Examining deeper on the heart, engraved upon it was a four-lettered word.

The name of the fairy.


The scythe

Drifting. Drifting through life with a scythe in my hand, no one but me can see. The people walk into the scythe in my hand and straight back out alive. The scythe it remains right by my side while the whole world seems to hide away terrified. Crashing. Crashing through life with a scythe in my hand playing with the game of life. The scythe it cuts thee like cupid’s dark arrow impaling the heart.

Tripping. Tripping through life with a scythe above my head, closer and closer, yet further and further away. It stalks me, it taunts me right above my head following my footsteps fumbling away at what is to be done. Crumbling. Crumbling through life with a scythe above my head looking up at the clouds and six feet under the ground. Laughing at my every move, it inches closer when it has the chance. Its midnight eyes are watching me.

Tumbling. Tumbling through life with a scythe around my neck with promises of salvation engraved on the handle. They may be blind to it, but their conscious reeks with realisation. They drag, they wrench, they heave the scythe from around my neck, but it won’t go. It’s permanant. Leave the scythe around my neck for only I can detach its hold. Limping. Limping through life with a scythe around my neck visible for the whole world to see. It remains there staring impatiently at the clock ticking away to our dusty deaths. Gone.



Your empty ice heart

Emptiness? No thoughts coming to mind? No thoughts at all? I don’t feel, I don’t sympathise. Immunity to the killings and deceit because maybe we’re just used to it.

Friendship brings people together. Of all the lies force fed to us, this is one of the worst. What if you’re the black sheep of the group? Worrying about what you say in case something slips and exposure. Lurking around in the shadows of their smiles; false face must hide what the false heart doth know. Dancing along to the rhythm of their laughter, like a puppet on strings. Slowly, you are fading and they are winning. Slowly, they are taking over and everything else is dead. The world goes lights out.

They want to help you. They have to help you. They need to help you. To them you are a danger; lock you up with the lions until you make a deal with the devils. This may sound controversial to you if I call them devils because they rid you of your demons, yet not at all. To the side you are pushed and shoved and shunned and stunned, giving other people priorities. They are the devils of your mind and the seeds of anarchy start to rage. What are other people doing? Other people are killing themselves, they need, they need, sort them out! Your head is drifting and so are they, but not in the same way.

Scars no longer penetrate the skin, tears no longer penetrate the face and the dark is no longer taking prisoners. Lock you up till the day awakes and makes you sane. You are gone. To the world you are alive and well, but the darkness could not resemble your ice heart more.

A year ago

One year ago I was completely lost with nowhere to hide. I had no way to let my creative side run free and let it do what it feels like. One year ago I had no idea that signing up to this free website has led me to where I am today. I have met so many people and read so many posts that I can relate to. One year ago I was a completely different person than I am today.

I didn’t know what I wanted, I had no way to let all my thoughts out. But now I know, I want to write. I want people to read and lose themselves in my words. For people to relate to what I’m saying, comment and help my writing to improve and go on to do wonderful things. If you told me 2 years ago that I would have my own blog with so many people reading and liking, I would’ve probably slapped you and told you to wake up and stop dreaming.

The purpose of this post is to just stop and just appreciate how far you’ve come. You may have a long way to go, but you’re on your way, and some day you will reach your destination or the state you want to achieve. Just put yourself out there. No one ever attained anything just sat at home, decide what you want and take steps towards it. You only have one life, every day you waste will not come back. Make it count.

This is a happy one year anniversary to my blog, the 3rd of October, and I have loved every single minute. My writing have evolved so much and I’m so excited for what the future holds. Thank you all for following, reading, commenting and liking, you’ve made writing a pleasure. Here’s to many many hopeful years.

I’m still on my journey to happiness, won’t you come along with me?

Wadz x

One day.

She hurried down the dark alleys, one after the other passing her by. She wanted to get away, she needed to get away. Her mind scrambled with thoughts; the people, the places, the memories she left behind. Why did she care anyway? I mean that was the reason she left, wasn’t it? She had enough of all the lies, the deceit. All the being told what to do. But most of all, she had enough of the trickery that her own mind had forged. She wasn’t running away from people; no, she was running away from herself.

The shadows crept upon her, reaching out and brushing her shoulder. She shivered from the touch and wiped the liquid that had started to form on her forehead. Cautiously, she turned to see if anything had been following her; she had gone when her parents had left her by herself at home. Home. The warmth of the thought was enough to fill her whole body with heat. Her safe haven. She would go there whenever things got too much, whenever people thought they could control her, whenever her demons thought they could control her, and whenever they did.

The thoughts filled her head once again, these ones however, were like the extinguisher to her fire. She tried hard to repress the thoughts that had build up inside of her, hoping and praying that she would be in time before they could surround her. She reached an infinite jungle, pushing past the trees that were enclosing her. The clearing, the clearing, the clearing; she had to reach there, she had to get there to cure herself from the evils of her mind.

She sat, just on the edge with her feet touching the top of the water. A small, sharp object was taken out of her bag, and she held it in her hand for a moment, letting the cold stain her. She closed her eyes and dismissed all of her emotions. The skin on her arm was ripped open, blood pouring out and flooding all around her, as if it were a pool, and she was drowning. Once more the blade greeted her skin, more ruby fluid cascading out of her leaving smears on the freshly cut grass. She reached forward slowly and dipped her arm in the aquamarine river that sat before her. She flinched at the sea’s embrace and left her bruised limb there for a minute before lifting it out.

This was home. This is where she could run to, and everything would be alright. She laid back and gazed up at the blanket of darkness that had spread across the sky. Clearing her head, she closed her eyes and thought of a day where everything would be better and she would be better. “One day” she thought. One day.

Holding back

What’s the one thing holding you back from doing whatever it is you want to do? Do you want to travel the world and experience different cultures and foods. (Who can not love food?) Do you want to show the world who you are and make yourself known to everyone? Do you want to take care of people or animals? Do you want to run your own business or restaurant? So why can’t you go out there and do it? Why can’t you make your dreams a reality?

You know why? Because the only thing holding you back is yourself. Sometimes we become so afraid of doing what we want to do for once, that we never end up doing it. We care to much about what other people think of us and don’t listen to ourselves.

Our heart’s telling us to believe and stay strong and one day, one day we will be away from this all. But our mind is telling us, constantly reminding us that we will never be away from this torture of reality. If we believe, if we truly believe, then one day everything will turn out how you wished it would. To get there, the only thing we need to change is ourselves, and the rest will fall into place.

Wadz x


Some many never experience, others will have. Some don’t believe that such a thing will fall upon them, others it comes when they least expected. What’s so special about it? Why does everything and everyone somehow lead us back to it? Every piece of art, every song that is every written, is about this, and when you say that you don’t believe in it, all eyes are upon you. The joke’s on you. So, what’s so special about it? How does this one simple act of loving someone, change people?

Why is this the only thing that we are allowed to talk about? Why is this the only act that is accepted? If anyone talks about other topics, topics which are rarely talked about, they are shunned and overlooked. Almost as if their opinions have been deleted because they do not follow the norm of the people.

Love turns people into monsters, they can’t see anything beyond that. They can’t see the things that are real. They are trapped in a cage of their own mind which is stopping them from seeing what is really out there. What is really out there? Out there is the truth, and what you’re living right now is nothing but a beautiful lie.

Watch how it all comes crashing onto you in the end. Watch how everyone before you will walk away, but you are too blind to see. Open your eyes and see the world. See the world how it truly is; not through those loving eyes of yours.



What is wrong with me?

What is wrong with me?

Today, I accidentally came across a video while on a binge-watch and it was someone talking about their depression and how they overcame it. I don’t what happened, but while watching, tears just started flowing from my eyes and down my face. For the first time in ages I gave my mind the chance to think and all it came out with was tears. Everything circled my head, so much so that it became deafening. I was not able to breath properly or move. All I did was sit, think and cry. The person, she was talking about how she fell into depression in the first place, and then how she began to overcome the things that her mind was telling her. She was able to reach a state of happiness where she would say that everything is going to okay. She was in Unicorn Island.

Watching this, my mind went to a completely different realm within my thoughts. It went berserk thinking of everything bad that I had done and everyone I had left behind. Questions began to appear, leaving me questioning all of my choices and my very existence as well. So here I was sat home alone and this video made me rethink my whole purpose and my whole life so far. You probably think that 15 years isn’t that long, but when every day feels like it’s going in slow-motion, then it seems like forever.

But the truth is, I want to be able to get to Unicorn Island too. I want to be happy with myself, I want to be happy with where I am and what I’m doing. But the one thing that’s holding me back is myself. I feel like I don’t deserve happiness. No, I’m scared of being happy. I’m scared that I won’t be the same person that I am. No matter how much I hate being myself, I would never want to be a completely different person. I’m scared of the outside world and what lies beyond the walls of my own home. I’m scared of what the future holds for me and if I will ever get to be the person that I’ve always wanted to be. I’m scared of the things I feel and I’m scared of my thoughts. I’m scared of thinking, I’m scared of the things in my head. I’m scared of myself.

I feel so lonely, like I’m the odd one out and everyone is staring. Everyone is looking at me like I’m an alien, and the people who I get close to see the real me and leave. I’m so very grateful for all the people that I have and I treasure everyone that stays by me. But even when I have all the people in the world, why do I feel so lonely, so empty inside? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with me. Maybe I’ve been pretending for so long that I’m okay, that when it all hits me at once I break down. Maybe I’ve stopped getting used to it. All the screams sound louder, all the thoughts seem to deafen me, more than before.

I can’t accept that maybe I shouldn’t be made to feel this way. I’ve lost all motivation, I no longer aspire to do good. I don’t know what I want to do, but I know for one thing that it’s not going to get any better. I feel like I’m on a downward spiral to my end. But I’m also scared of what is going to happen to me. I have a little bit of life in my dead soul that does nothing but worry about what is going to happen. The rest of me just doesn’t care and instead of fighting back, I’m lying there letting everything get to me. And nothing is doing anything against that.

The reason I wrote this post was for myself, because I was in a bad state physically and mentally and had no other way to turn. That is one of the reason I started to write as well because when I write, I seem like I’m free to create anything that I want to create. I can create a magical land far away and take people there with just my words. I can venture through the depths of the ocean or the furthest point on a map just by imagining. Writing helps me a lot, to just rant about everything and even if people judge me, I won’t see that. All I see is this screen with words on, I don’t see the people on the other end.

I don’t not want to be happy my whole life. I want to be able to live life to the fullest and be able to be proud of everything I have done. I want to adventure, I want to be free. I want to do so many things, but I’m holding myself back. I want to end everything because I don’t feel like I can do it anymore. I don’t feel like I’m doing anyone proud, and I don’t feel like I’m achieving any sort of purpose. I want to be happy, I want to change the world, but I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of myself.