And this is how
you give back for all the love
that I selflessly held in my heart
without a second thought,
without knowing that the world was a scary place,
you speak to me in light codes,
you show to me your true face,
and I rise to meet you,
and find peace in your embrace.
Here is what I have found upon my unwavering search to “find myself” ...
There will always be world hunger. There will always be injustice. There will always be the ignorant. There will always be the you and the me and others like “us”, who will fight for what we believe is “right”. But, don’t you see? If we didn’t allow for the dark to exist, we wouldn’t have the light. This very thing is what makes us pray to the full of the moon in the very darkest of night. It is what makes us reach out for another’s hand, and the very thing that makes us “reach back”. It is what keeps this earth spinning in orbit. As for you and me? Tag, my friend... you’re It. As am I. Regardless of wh...
The thing about
some days it
comes and goes
l i k e t h e w i n d .
Brand my mind,
Scar my heart.
etched my veins, with your name
"Pain is love"
"Love is pain"
May your interpretation,
Live between the lines.
Eternal memory of sins. im sorry.
Its always you! It'll always be you.
Whisper truth into the abyss,
Of hurting ears. Shhh. I love you still.
Rested head, under summers trees.
Comfort, Empty laps,
and drowning minds.
May the waters cascade over the voices, and laughter. Drowning again and again without death.
De dingen die ik doormaak
Het inzicht dat ik ontvang
Het is onlosmakelijk
Zij willen het
She had galaxies in her eyes
She had pearls in her hair
She had petals on her lips
She had mind full of thoughts
She had heart full of pain
Yet the happiest girl she was
Today I opened my casket of memories
Memories that were more than gold
There I found some parchments
Where things were written in the ink of our love
Things that were more than life
I found some balloons filled with the air of our hope
Some coloured papers and shimmers that added charm
Some tits and bits of love that we exchanged in private and public
And then opened my eyes to today
Only to see the keys to that casket stolen, lost
I broke it open with my teeth till I bled
Only to see soot, ashes and burnt strings
Some blown out balloons, and some torn papers
Life was like fading away, and I was standing still
I felt out of grip, but had to compose
Because my only resort had flown away
This week we challenge you to be extra creative. Use the words below to create a poem or story and upload a photo you took to go along with it.
Tag your letter "weeklychallenge".
Make your mark!
Finish the story.
"All alone she sat there in front of her window. Listening to sad music. After ending that toxic relationship she didn't know who she was anymore. She realized she was always what he wanted her to be. Now it was finally time to learn who she was...."
Tag your letter "storytime".
What would you like to tell yourself this week? Motivate yourself to make it your best week yet. Write a letter to yourself and tag it "dearself".
Make your mark!
I wish that I could talk to you , this is one of those times I don't know what to do.
Your granddaughter needs anger management and parenting classes. Because, my daughter would never behave the way your granddaughter is behaving and still has no bond with her son. I'f I could send you roses in heaven I would have to ship them, and me along with them too you.
I feel like I'm failing her as a Mother, I see now everything I did probably made you feel like this. I miss you so much. Please watch over my children and grandchildren, when I am not there to protect them. Keep them safe Mom until I can get there.
I'm sorry for taking you for granted. I love you always.
I have spent more time lately learning about people who overcome adversity, and especially those who have developed an inner strength that makes them untouchable.
Of particular note are those indelible people who have learned to “struggle happy,” which sounds strange but it’s a very real condition, and also the title of the book my daughter Ana recently crafted. I know that Struggle Happy, the book, would have never been done so well, without the inspiration of the lettrs app, and it’s amazing PenPals from across the world.
And it wasn’t that you didn’t love her;
It’s that your heart belonged somewhere else and you couldn’t pretend anymore.
Christkindlemarkets are a big deal in Germany. They are everywhere in almost every midsize city. But all the glamour is gone. My kids will never be able to attend a market without anti terror barricade at each entrance or exit of the market. It used to be a place to enjoy time together with friends in family. Getting ready for Christmas. Now it's a place of some fear and a weird feeling. Whenever you are standing at a booth, you can't just relax and enjoy anymore, all the security measurements around you keeps you aware of the possiblity it can happen all the time again.
Stars are like very long living bursts of lights millions miles away just doing their own thing
I admire their independence
In the comments section below, start an argument in 4 words.
Here's mine: THERE WAS ENOUGH ROOM.
You can choose any topic, doesn't have to be about the Titanic :)
She's a beautiful dreamer with eyes like an angel
A body to die for and a mind just like mine.
She keeps all her thoughts and dreams in a journal
The passion she writes with keeps growing with time.
Sometimes her dreams are playful and vivid
Sometimes her thoughts are scary and dark.
I wish I could be there to help and to heal her
And put back together her sad, broken heart.
If she just lets me in and gives me her trust
I'll hold her together and keep her from breaking.
I've already fallen for her beauty and charm
My mind and my body are hers for the taking.
So my dream girl exists I've finally found her
Scarred and beaten but a spirit unbroken.
She dreams about leaving this world with a ba...
Dear people of the world,
We are all butterflies unable to see our own beauty. Only others can truly see it. If people say you are not beautiful they are the caterpillars who do not see the beauty you posses, only your strangeness in how different you are. That does not mean that your beauty is nonexistent, only that they focus on how you are different and not the beauty and color of your wings.
Love from Ashlee Grace B.
There are three people standing on the top of a mountain. This mountain overlooks humanity and its entirety. They can see time pass, from the cavemen to the astronauts that went to the moon, to the scientist today curing cancer. One of them looks up at the sky and says: "Breathtaking." The only girl of the three tilts her head up too and sighs lightly. She closes her eyes and searches blindly for a hand of the second man. Their hands intertwine and she guides his body closer to her. Finally the last one of the trio aims his eyes at the sky too. There they are, three people, on the top of a mountain, having the possibility to see humanity and its entirety, yet choosing to look at the sky. They...
Forgiveness is a two-way street: whenever we forgive someone, we are also forgiving ourselves.
That air of intimidation blew me over.
The evening grew duskier. My Roman antique clock tick tocked.
The tenor turned cold. My phone kept ringing like one fire alarm. I ignored.
I ran down the staircase, only to be found alone in my home. I panicked.
There was a letter on the diners table. And it read just what happened above. The same lines written down neatly with no signature. I flipped it over. It was plain. Trembled was I.
I opened the door of my store room. The room was organized, like one cleaned up crime scene. But the pungency was hard to ignore.
I blocked my nose and walked further, into the corner of the room. She was there, waiting for me. Lifeless.
You've caught me.
In your bouquet of roses.
In your dance of passion.
In your old French songs.
I smell the roses,
I dance to your song of love.
I smile at the thought of you.
You've caught me.
Please don't give up.
Please don't quit.
Please keep trying.
I know it can be difficult.
I know it can be painful.
But don't give up.
I'm here for you.
At first when I was very very young, I was told that a home is a building you live in. A building made of bricks and cement and doors and windows.
So I loved mine with all my heart. Decorated the walls and the windows with little drawings and stuff. But then one day, I had to leave that house.
As I grew older, I realised that a house becomes a home because of the people who live in it. The memories they create there. The walls and the windows and the doors become witnesses to those memories as they are created, remembered and relived over the years.
So I decided to make a human being my home. For some time it was wonderful. But I always slept with one eye open. There w...
people with broken heart & the ones who tend to break,
His Love Is Accumulating Dust On My Heart. It's piling up. He who walks into my life first decides to run his finger over it. It's hell, hopeless & disappointing when the dust sticks to him & he wipes it off. Even my tears are unable to wash it off.
Loneliness creeps in like a black, disgusting devil but I've rose from the grave, dug in the way of underworld. I'm able to battle with him!
With his love,