Through and through

To my random writes born of sadness and sighs… To my uncaged words, kept but freed in cords… Here’s to more. 🍻 There’s a great responsibility in knowing what stands between wanting something and letting it go. When it no longer fills you up and makes you happy, don’t lie to yourself and keep a

F L A W L E S S

Just because you don’t have what others do, doesn’t mean it will make any less of you. Every woman us uniquely classified. Age is just a number. Weight is just a measurement. Shape is just a description. You are not to be insecured over your unlikeable parts because every flaw you own, makes up more

P O I N T B L A N K

Common but unusual still. Heat and fire in an ironic twinge. It’s getting more hazy. A gush of whirlwind and catastrophe. Reasons must have left, cause if none, then what? Why is everything so stark? The bed. The eyes. The life. I feel it throbbing. Reigned passion down to default. Pounding deeper that what it

Trust me, you will like THIS messy

M E S S Y. Was and probably still. It’s not an easy fix. Being lost as much as always. Too disturbing. Such agony it is to wanna go on but be held back. Even worse when you don’t know what it caused, or where to start figuring it out. Isn’t it supposed to get

тнє мєѕѕαgє ι ѕнσυℓ∂ нανє ѕєит (VI/XXV/XVII)

I never really pay attention to my birthday since eight. I even got it worst on my 22nd year – such a painful surprise for me. Had my heart broken everyday of that time. Last year, I wanted to make it up so I tried to look happy and fancy my enjoyment. Spur of that

A letter too late

I MISS YOU. Too bad. A tear fell from the left of my eye. Every night, I reminisce our small talks. The sound of your laughter, The swell of your incandescent smile, Such a reluctant look on those eyes. I am smiling through sigh. I know, I shouldn’t bother myself anymore. We lost our touch.

Some things, just don’t have proper endings.

I could miss you tonight. Tomorrow. Everyday and for the rest of my life. Probability wise, I could lengthen it as much as so on. But I cannot miss you today and hope for another the next. That’s just not fair. I don’t owe myself an explanation for your loss. I cannot always take it

Scars to your beautiful

Roughly as it may seem, I am crossing fingers to healing. Wounds will find it’s cure. It will be. Probably not today — it’s okay. Probably more than a 365 day turn — no biggie on that. Probably almost half of my life — at least I am working on it. Cause you know what?