Fiver Goodier
Bio
Im a full time mom and caregiver, and have been writing for about 15 years.
Stories (6/0)
Lost in the Music
Music fills my soul. When life empties it I sing my heart out no matter how bad I am, because with each exhale of a lyric, is an exhalation of pain. Life isn't always perfect, and we all need that one thing to get us through the bad times. The difficult times that take our breath and steal our hope. I cry as I'm singing a verse from our favourite songs, to release the heartache that I can't bring to my lips. The pain that pulls so deeply, it rips the smile from my face. It makes my bones ache while it holds me close. So I put on my headphones, turn up the volume until it drowns out my fears, my pain. And I let go, until I have nothing left. Until I can sleep....
By Fiver Goodier6 years ago in Poets
Why I Began Writing - Do for YOU
I have been writing short stories, poetry (and I am currently in the process of writing two novels), since I was around 13. Many of us go through major life-changing events. Some of us are lucky where those events are happy ones. Others, not so much. To this day I still struggle with depression, anxiety, and panic attacks. My childhood was unique, and a lot of times fun. The childhood many others wish they had. With the constant traveling and moving and going to fun places. But it was also filled with loneliness and an angry parent who made me feel no bigger than an ant daily. There are many people out there who can relate to a certain extent to my experiences and then some. And many more out there who have had much more difficult lives in many ways. For me, writing was a release of all the emotions I couldn't talk about. Whether it be because I didn't have a friend to talk to, or I just didn't want to open myself up. Either way, I had to get it out, or it would continuously eat at me and make everything so much harder to deal with in the end.
By Fiver Goodier6 years ago in Motivation
Are You There?
I walk through snow filled eyes. So cold, so piercing. I keep my head low, not needing the pain. The tears form under low, cryptic lids. I wince wanting the words to disappear, it’s not working. They replay over and over, like a broken vinyl no one bothers to fix. With every syllable my heart breaks more, slowly but noticeable to all who see clearly. They stare but never stop, never ask why, nor what's wrong as my legs dangle over the edge. The tears fall, raining on the river below. I close my eyes....
By Fiver Goodier6 years ago in Poets
