Insecurity has always been a girl's enemy. This was the worst battle I've ever faced against myself. I hated my body. I hated my unclear skin. I hated my unruly hair. I hated everything that made me as me. The type of beauty defined by media was what I believed to be the standard of… Continue reading Knowing Your Worth
"Why am I alive?" It was my first thought when I opened my eyes. I stared at the white ceiling through the haze, my lungs burning every time I breathed. Slowly, the blurry image of myself lying on the bedroom floor came back to me. The slicing pain, the ultimate decision... the end. I remembered… Continue reading When The End Ended
I'll start with why I loved you. You harbor constellations within your darkness. I saw them the moment we started talking and I never finished trying to connect one star to another while trying to figure you out. You are an ocean filled with sunken pirate ships and lost treasure chests. I have braved to… Continue reading The Last Piece
I ruined us. I ruined what little we have left after our fights. I'm sorry for holding the string too tight and breaking what fragile thread keeps us intact. It is a cruel thing, to destroy what I have wanted from the very beginning. Then comes the heartbreaking truth that maybe this is not the… Continue reading The Girl Who Broke His Heart
The world has become your map. From the small playground of that one-horse town, you have broken free of the tradition and carved out a path of your own. I congratulate you—for only the brave can disregard rules and follow her principles. People misunderstand your courage for rebellion, your tears for manipulation. Stand tall! You… Continue reading To The Girl Who Lost Her Way
Lately, I have been depressed. I thought writing - something I have loved all my life - is my curse. I thought I hurt people with my words, I thought I create distance between myself and those that I love. I was wrong. Writing is without doubt the greatest gift of my existence. I have… Continue reading Live. Love. Write.
Have you ever cried just because you're you? I have always thought writing is a gift. Now I think it's a curse. It's my curse. I wish I didn't feel things so deeply, didn't care too much, didn't love so selflessly. I wish I could erase who I am, cease existing, and just float across the universe… Continue reading The Girl With The Scars