He felt like home. Like grandpa’s hugs and granny’s kisses. Like a school bus ride home, and evening sunsets. Like afternoon Lunch with your Best-friends. He felt like home. Arms with an instant ease of peace, chocolate lips And a grin so sweet. He felt like ice cream on a summers day. He felt like a sunshine ray , and a Shooting stars runaway. He felt like home He felt like Twilight, New Moon, and Breaking Dawn. He was was as high as the sky and as bright as Nebula. He felt like why have I never felt this way before? He felt like a shower after a long day at work, like back-rubs And bath bomb soap . He felt like India’s Aries “Brown skin… I can’t tell where mines is and where yours begins”. He felt like hopes redeeming and pains end. He felt like home. Of course felt is past tense. But it’s still memorizing to dream of who we used to be. The trauma that can Happen when direct and in-direct meet. Like I’m saying things I don’t mean Because you act a certai
I have been too fearful of my own potential, my own strengths and my own voice. I let my broken pieces define me and became content with being a mess. Is everyone this hard on themselves or am I too rigid to see that my flaws are human, nothing less. That my pain is identifiable that my fears are shackles of the brain, and my potential is undeniable. Where did I learn to self-hate? Who can I truly Blame for such an ugly pattern of I’m not happy to wake up and see my own face. I get so stuck in my misery that I block out the whole world until I feel like myself again. It takes too much energy to dwell in the past, and even more to pass around smiles that are fake. I find myself disconnecting from my core, and I see only the masquerade I bore. It gets dark, so dark when you’re an empath who can feel to the depths of ones soul. I will take on all the negative energy but in hopes that something nurturing can be reborn. They say don’t let anyone throw that on you and I won’t anymo