Complaining is a choice. Worrying is a choice. Making excuses is a choice.
So is discipline. So is gratitude. So is taking action. So is getting better.
You always have a choice.
This morning,
I thought I'd write you a love letter.
Then I wondered,
what would I say?
My dearest one,
I haven't written
because I'm still waiting
for you to interrupt
my silence.
To arrive,
somehow,
between one thought
and the next.
I miss you.
Ha.
There.
I said it.
Maybe that's the whole letter:
I keep pretending
I'm waiting for your words,
when really,
I'm waiting for you. @bionicanadian@FoxProse@darkxfer #Inknthought
She blooms
when she’s ready,
not when the world says she should.
Beyond age,
beyond limits,
she simply grows
into herself. 🌿
#foxprose#vss365@bionicanadian
Let yesterday fade.
I gather what remains
and turn it toward the light.
One small step,
one breath,
one beginning
and suddenly,
the horizon is full of dawn,
waiting for me to commence.
@3amfeeliings I don’t hate you.
I hate what you did to me,
how you turned love into doubt,
and trust into fear.
But I found my way back to myself,
and now I know
some endings don’t break us,
they set us free.
I don’t hate you.
I hate what you did to me,
how you turned love into doubt,
and trust into fear.
You broke my heart,
but you didn’t break me.
I rebuilt myself
without you.
You’re about to walk
into the greatest time of your life,
where old dreams
quietly become your reality,
and you finally realize
you’re living the moments
you once prayed for.
#WritersofX
#Autumnal
the trees teach us
what we resist learning:
nothing is truly ours.
Leaves fall,
seasons turn,
and still,
life continues
by learning to let go.
#vss365
In her dream,
his heartbeat lingered
like an unfinished love song.
She woke before dawn,
but somehow
his heart was still beating
beside hers.
For the rest of the day,
she carried that rhythm
like a secret
the kind of love
even waking
couldn’t undo.
I was handed a script and expected to perform. I chose to improvise. Maybe I can’t change what the women before me endured, but I can make sure their obedience ends with me.
I inherited a cage disguised as tradition. I cannot unlock the doors for the women who came before me, but I can leave mine wide open and make sure the next woman never mistakes a cage for home.
Earlier,I used to search for d secrets of d universe, reading signs in nature. Now dat hunger is gone.
Whtever I needed to know was already inside me. Now I only need this;to soothe my restless hear n 2 ask sm1else:How is ur heart? May I hold it fr a while so u can breathe easy?
it isn't possible to love and part. you can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. i know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.