She's not hiding behind the walls, but you couldn't find her.
For she is still winning the silent wars that penned her up from catching her own breath;
For she is still bleaching the insecurities that stained her sleeves and stopped her to who and to where she's becoming;
For she is still searching her way back home after she lost herself in the middle of the brokeness of her own unrythym poetry;
For she is still letting her heart off from the darkness that suffocates her everytime when she locks herself in the four corners of her room;
Indeed, she's still battling things that her smile will never tell you about. But when she learns to embrace and fall in love for who she is, you will find her— little by little.
—PrettyMira18
YOU ARE READING
A Poetry of Emotions
PoetryIT'S NOT ABOUT WHAT A WRITER SAYS. IT'S ABOUT HOW A WRITER SAYS IT, TO MAKE A READERS UNDERSTAND IT.
