aea

perhaps, in my case, i just got miraculously great at pretending that everything will work out in my favor. but it never once made things better. i just learned how to bury a dead body one after another. i just learned how to show up and smile after walking straight to hell. i just learned how to grieve for an eternity of loses. i learned how to regret things more and shrink myself more than my fear. so it's true. it never gets better. you'd just eventually get used to the feeling of it and learn how to live tiptoing your way out of that madness. and the worst part of it is it'll always be right behind you. like a shadow.

you are not hard to love.

i’ve lived my whole life in noise that oftentimes i think about running out of this world.

somewhere quiet. somewhere soft. somewhere gentle. somewhere peaceful.

i don't recognize the parts of my body. sometimes it felt like my arms were my limbs. and my head is just an eyeball made to testify to this terrifying feeling of not belonging somewhere in this entire universe somehow.

she carried this entire family on her back when my father couldn't hold the burden anymore. she never backed down from things. my mother is the bravest woman i've ever known. she showed me how powerful a woman can be. she showed me how she'd never downplay her worth. she showed me how a woman can be someone more than anyone could ever be.

i burst out when i try to make sense. i cry when it feels too much. i bite my own tongue when i try to explain it. there's no escape from this.

because how can a person who hasn't lived half my life understand me? how can you have a better understanding of my pain when i have lived my entire life reading and memorizing my sorrows?

i'm more than all these restrictions and expected outcomes set by the world. we are more than that.

she said and words flow from her scars.

always remind yourself that the years of sorrow and pain don't make you less soft. just braver.

you’re not powerful. you are just a rotting flesh with no regards for humanity.

the one that doesn’t break you every night so you can prove to the world that you are capable of healing yourself in the morning.

that somewhere, somehow, in this time, i am alive.