The result. I love being creative. I love art - writing, painting, making pictures. I love to try new styles. What kind of art do you do? * * * #art #creative #poet #poetry #create #writers #igpoetry #poetryofinsta #author #poetrylovers #createcreate #writers_creed #mayapoetbe #spilledink #writtings #smallpoems #shortpoem #micropoetry #modernpoetry #newpoetry #youngwriters #femalepoets https://www.instagram.com/p/B3-PlB4Fx_L/?igshid=3tsj3eu6uxwg
“so important to realize that some feelings you carry aren’t necessarily ones that belong to you, but feelings connected to past or younger versions of you that felt unseen, unheard or unloved. certain feelings don’t just appear from thin air, they stem from unresolved energy.”
one day i want to wake up without the weight of the world crushing me. i want the day to greet me with open arms, soft skies. i want to feel free, weightless. i want to feel like a soul that has purpose, not one that only carries pain.
I hide my feelings, dig so deep into the soil, try to place them down below. But then I remember, whatever is planted will always grow. They sprout with fierce reminders, splintered souls made for breaking skin. I should’ve known that one day, I’d have to face my past again.
There is a song in my mind, and she sings in sorrows. Some days it’s a quiet melody, a simple hum. Other days it’s a mess of words, a scream into silence. It’s a raging voice, reckless and ready to ruin me.
En la tierra hay 7.350 millones de personas… Y sin embargo nos hemos encontrado, nos hemos visto, nos hemos empeñado y NOS TENEMOS.
Que suerte no? Esto sí que es que te toque la lotería… Y digo yo….ya que me ha tocado la lotería…ahora tócame tú. Tócame tú cada navidad de muchos años. Tocame tú como deseo cumplido de cada uno de mis cumpleaños. Tócame tú cada vez que vea una estrella fugaz. Tócame tú por dentro y por fuera hasta que me falte el aire y en el último suspiro pueda decir, “he sido millonaria toda mi vida”.
Ya tuve la suerte de encontrarte entre 7.350 millones de personas, habría que ser muy idiota para dejarte escapar…
Me amó y no entendí su amor. En las tardes de invierno me arropaba con sus brazos, metíamos los pies bajo la sábana y me contaba historias de dinosaurios.
