She would howl and weep wrapped in her comforting blanket.
She would hate being part of the memories, that went aflame and burnt her to ashes.
Tear up when something reminds her of them.
Think of all the stars swirling into the back holes.
Wish upon a star that itself doesn't know its fate.
Blots the paper saying love is a sword, killing one at a time.
Says her heart is now ice, and the world lacks the fire to thaw it out.
And the next day, the sun rises.
The first dancing ray heals her heart.
Her heart is still heavy but not incapable of loving.
She accepts love is a flower, guarded by thorns.
She hums her favourite tune as she flies like a butterfly.
She forgives the archer, but never really forgets the face.
For her, forgiveness is self love, her heart could never hold hate.
She is a phoenix, a fairy, a human. Someone ordinary at sight, extraordinary at heart.
This isn't some fictional writing. This is written about a person I know too well.
and how are you all doing?