the struggles of a heart..

Hold on, From blazing fires to tired embers.. Hold on, From roaring lions to dying riots.. Hold on, From messy minds to fleeting eyes. Hold on,  The greying skies will have to shine, The rising tides will soon minimise, Your crying eyes will soon be dry.. and the weight inside will soon let you fly.  So hold on. Hold on to that thunderstorm and all it's mad mayhem.. for everything that it takes from you it feeds you something else. It takes the breath from you but then it gives you air. It forces a gasp from you but then it lets you stand. Hold on, you're coming out stronger.. so hold on till the end. 💚

You judge before a word is even spoken, you seem to think their world's have never been broken. What's wrong with having a pretty face? So she put on some lipstick and he combed his hair and they carved big smiles to appear like they don't care but the world is harsh with judgments thrown, from every angle and always aiming for your throne. It's not easy to hear how it must've been your fault, that a relationship had ended because of your curly brown locks, it's not easy to take hit after hit because they think you're pretty and forget he's a prick. It must've been her fault! Curvy hips and blood red lips don't stick to one bloke. It must've been him, that fine hair and dreamy stare wasn't made for one gal! What about the guy who bruised her and how about the girl who used him? You walk around and get hit and now you're numb till your room isn't lit. You let it out and cry to sleep because deep inside you're still in love with

When he started to realise I was broken but brave, he said the look in my eyes could send a grown man to his grave. The once young and naive daughter bloomed into the most manic disaster. But in that fire, that dark pit, that pain, she was like iron forming her name, under intense heat she’d shape herself, she wasn’t brittle she wasn’t a dame. She was a queen and this war was her game, she’d take her sword and spell her name, between grit teeth you’d yell the same. Her strength was not how she played the bloody game, it was her heart, her love and how it  remained sane. The kind this mad world can only find in some lost land, the kind you’d put in a box and label and frame. She had that love in a world full of pain.

So where’s my ‘meant to be’? My happy ever after? My ‘dizzy in our laughter’? Where’s the magic and the sparks, the warmth even in the dark? The sunsets and carved hearts and long walks through hidden parks..? How about the wine and the champagne paired with city lights or dancing in the rain? The cozy cuddles and cheeky tease, the moonlight dinner and feeling at ease? the classic love songs between intense kisses and subtle flirting in public places? Where're the fights and the compromises? The late nights and star gaze places. My very own drug and disaster, my poisoned remedy and tamed man monster, someone to push me and say “you can run faster,” Reach higher,” & “fight harder!” My trust fall partner, my let’s do this together hustler. The hold my hell even though I’m blazing, and when it’s over then we’ll start apologising. Not to forget, the “be my best friend and here’s my heart, keep it safe, don’t rip it apart.” The warm tea with my study partner and “com

     So I’ll take my bright yellow rubber ducky umbrella and stand in the pouring rain alone, just because I feel like it. I’ll tie my hair in a messy bun, not the pretty ones girls have but a really unflattering bun and pull my jeans up and try to climb that tree even if I’m scared and sure that I probably won’t get it the first time. I’ll let you into my room as I go wash my face clean and not worry that you can see my bare face and know how I look 7 in the morning because I’m okay with it. Some days I might talk a little too much and not hold back from the inappropriate jokes and the irrelevant details and not really regret it either, mainly because I don’t think my ties are fragile and I trust that they’ll love me and my flaws. I tend to sit like a guy a lot, I try not to but I just do. I cry easily, so very easily. I’m pretty lost most of the time, I think it’s the time in life where everyone is looking for themselves and I’m kind of stuck between wanting to f

"WHAT ARE YOU RUNNING FROM?" "JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE RUNNING FROM AND I WILL HELP YOU BUT YOU ARE LOSING YOURSELF AND THIS IS NOT YOU!" "What are you running from...?" "me." Don't you see..? You've answered your questions in your screams and pain.. You can turn the world upside down but you can't help me hide...you can't help me run from me. This hide-and-seek game is with me. "This isn't you." It isn't. It really isn't. It is me running away from everything I was and everything that made me who I was. Running so hard, you feel like your skin would shed off. Running so hard you feel the breath get knocked out of you like running straight into a wall. Trying to walk into a world so different within hours, trying to love differently, breathe differently and feel differently. Reckless. It's a suicide mission, one version of you dies and another lives. breathe. Calm the raging fire my girl. Han