There are times in our life when we’re about to give up fighting battles that we choose not to tell to anyone. We fall apart, we break into pieces, and find it hard to make ourselves whole again. We tried to start over, but found ourselves breaking once more with memorues we tried to forget. We found ourselves again crashing to the ground, and all we ever thought was to give up and let ourselves go. We became hopeless. Love slowly fading, and we started to forget who we truly are. While we struggle to love someone, we also forget to love ourselves. And that is the crucial part.
No matter what happens, we should always give ourselves the love that we truly deserve. Yes, we fall, we crash, and we break into pieces, but we should learn to rise again and start over again and again and again. Never give up. And never deprive yourself the love that you truly deserve.
Do you know the true color of loneliness? It is when the sky bleeds crimson rays in the horizon while there you are standing on the edge somewhere in this boulevard of broken promises, waiting, and waiting for a love that already left. It is the color of the lovely golden sky in love when the sun has finally kissed the hills and valley a sweet goodbye. It is in between the color of the golden sky in war with the chaotic twilight. Loneliness isn’t gray. It is the new color of hope, lurking somewhere in between the folds of our scarred hearts uttering a single yet sweet prayer for tomorrow to be a little different than today.
He broke her. He’d shattered her heart into pieces. He drained her soul. He made her forget herself. He made her love him more. Now, she’s bleeding. And he’s more satisfied to know that she ain’t moving forward. But, her every piece made her stronger day by day. Every pain made her want to pick her pieces up again. Yes, every piece of herself that she tries to pick up from time to time made her bleeds. But he doesn’t know that she’s a strong woman. He doesn’t know she bleeds poetry.
Hello to all! You can now read my book for free. Download the Amazon Kindle app on your android phones and search the e-book version of “Diary of an Old Soul”. You can also support my book by simply purchasing the e-book version for only Php149.5. Also available in paperback.
Poetry is beauty. Poetry is emotion. Poetry is feelings. An idea of someone that touches my soul to find beauty in it. Someone who showed me that no matter how you feel about love, may it break you or hold you tight, it’s still beautiful. But I didn’t find beauty in your eyes. You looked at me with no feelings. No emotion. I didn’t even see a drop of tearful regrets. It was distant and full of chaos. But still, I wrote your name in my book. It’s everything about you. I wrote your name in a book I cannot call poetry.
Healing takes time. You don’t have to force yourself to heal just because people around you said that you have to. No, that’s not how it’s supposed to be. Heal when you’re ready, not when people say you should.
You know you’re growing when you start to love the sound of your silence, and privacy. You’re starting not to care about anybody’s opinion about you. You’ll leave them think whatever and it won’t matter anymore because at this moment all you ever need is peace of mind. You will never be afraid anymore about who’s leaving because what matters to you now are those who stays.