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@bree83
No better feeling than honouring the promises you made to yourself
In the era of loving myself more.
“Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.”
— Samuel Ullman
“Why do you deny yourself heaven? Why do you consider yourself undeserving? Why are you afraid of love? You think it’s not possible for someone like you. But you are the love of my life. You are the love of my life. You are the love of my life.”
— Lemonade. “Redemption” by Warsan Shire (via herlyvera)
THE WIND CARRIES YOU HERE
It happened so fast, I can't remember when loneliness ended and we began. My heart swells like a new bee sting, except this doesn't hurt in the slightest.
The poems love to talk when you're around. They speak in your voice when I listen long enough, and I've been doing a lot of that lately. There's something hopeful about about the way the cardinals keep returning to the evergreens. Perhaps they hear you too.
She has a knack for turning her tears into a raging waterfall. She erodes anything that obstructs her dreams. No one can compete with her fluidity. Perhaps it is an act of self-preservation, her ability to flow.
Maybe it is the only coping mechanism that keeps her afloat, after years of suffering from crippling drought.
But she is alive. She will let the world know it.