writing by rania

I write. Only when I’m falling in love. Or falling apart.

[rsawriting]

I used to love my coffees a little extra.

Extra sweetness. Cappuccinos with sprinkled brown sugar on top. Lattes with vanilla and cinnamon.

I loved my coffees just with you.

Now I enjoy it black. And alone.

Like I never loved my coffees, a little extra.

[rsawriting]

“It’s for the best” is for the worst

[rsawriting]

I knew it,

and for a lifetime now,

that’s the worst.

That I knew it.

[rsawriting]

Living alone won’t kill me.

What would kill me is, living with the wrong people.

[rsawriting]

you did me dirty and you knew, still, I’m the villain

[rsawriting]

Yeah.

I can’t lie.

Something in me died this summer.

[rsawriting]

I want to survive this.

Please, lead me into another season, so I might be dare to breath again.

[rsawriting]

Make love your goal.

[rsawriting]

Lo, I carve my sorrow in ink,

each verse a dagger, each rhyme a grave.

The world knoweth not the wounds I cradle,

for I wear silence as my armour,

and bleed unseen.

Oft have I thrust away the tender hand,

that sought to heal mine aching soul;

for I am both betrayer and betrayed,

a maker of ruins,

a mistress of despair.

Each tale I birth doth end alike,

a circle accurs’d,

a stage of self-slaughter,

where love is but a ghost

and I the executioner of mine own heart.

Yet still I write,

and in the writing die.

For I am the poet,

the scribe of sorrow,

the author and the corpse.

Thus ends my story,

ever the same,

ever undone.

[rsawriting]

I'll be okey

I'll be okey

I will be okey

[rsawriting]

I wonder, who

I might have become

without all theses heavy

things I carry?

I wonder who

I am becoming

because of them.

RSA

[rsawriting]

I only write when

I am falling in love

or falling apart

[rsawriting]

You’ll get over it. It’ll just takes time.

[rsawriting]

Done feeling.

Done caring.

Done looking back.

[rsawriting]

I wanted you so bad.

But you chose to ruin it.

And with that, you ruined me.

[rsawriting]

To be loved right is a foreign shore, when all thy days were storms. If tempests be thy cradle, then still waters may seem cruelly dull.

Thou wilt search for the thunder, wonder where the fire fled. Yet love was ne’er meant to be a fever that scorches the soul, ’tis meant to be peace, a long-forgotten breath, a home where thy bones may rest.

The one who loves thee true shall not summon thy survival, but bid it lay down, and sleep.

RSA

[rsawriting]

Heartbreaks ruin good souls.

Heartbreaks ruin Good Souls.

HEARTBREAKS RUIN GOOD SOULS.