Elen sila lumenn omentielvo

There is nothing wrong with being alone, but being lonely eats away at who you are until you are a jumble of question marks and doubts.

What they don’t tell you is that you’re more confused at twenty than you were at seventeen.

What masterpieces a broken heart or a troubled past can create is unfathomable.

There is a poem in my veins knocking on the walls and trying to get out, my heavy heart is filled with doubt, that muscle will always remember the pain. ‘If there is no reason to write, then why even bother?’, but there is a reason so loud, I can’t smother the sound of the pulsing poem running through my body. This time I won’t hold my breath, this time I will make sure I won’t forget, that there are poems in my veins that there is a cure for all this pain and that I won’t hide anymore, even if fear will knock on my door, again, I won’t hide anymore, I won’t hide anymore.

It’s a strange feeling to miss something you don’t even know.

The person you used to be doesn’t have to define who you are now. People change, people grow up.