P E T R I Z I A

I have come to peace with it. I have grown to accept it.

I am learning to love life in broken pieces.

Rain makes the flowers grow. My hurt turned into art.

I was born broken, but my heart remained whole.

Sure, a bit scarred and a crack here and there but whole nonetheless. Hopeful.

I was born broken but that does not define me.

I have my heart, strong and beating.

I thought I was Aphrodite ~ beautiful and adored

But I was not. In my entirety, I find myself to be more like Persephone.

Blooming and growning in the dark. Thriving in hell.

Beauty in chaos. Love in the most unexpected places. Willful.

everything they say is better with music. and I couldn't agree more. Here I am, 4th day without seeing you, or feeling your touch even though you're only a few minutes away.... but I'm okay. I've opened the curtains, light is pouring in, music is playing... and in shock, I found myself dancing. sometimes you need the rain to know you miss the sun. but I've heard somewhere that tears are waters wasted, no flowers grown. It fucking hurts to know this deep in my heart. it's raging ever so quietly like how I whispered I love you while you slept. My heart is telling me.