I sometimes miss this girl
who enjoys sitting in cafès
with her emptied cup.
She who finds grace
in the presence of waiting
And believes in happy ending.

I sometimes miss this girl
who's so good at self consolation.
She who patronises self rule
more than any other,
Someone who's still whole.

Now cafès reminds me
not with coffee fragrant promises
But of bitter tanged memories
While sitting becomes restless waits
I have come to miss the girl
I was before you-

I still long of me a little.

Once there was a girl so broken, so courageous,
she collected her broken pieces while on a blind fold however  not knowing when will all the shards will stick back together,
She gifted herself a permanent hug so she'll never have to pick it up once more in case she falls again...

It's okay to cry alone
For some reasons why
It's okay to smile
You don't need to tell why
It's okay to miss someone
Because to miss someone
Doesn't happen once
It happens over and over
It's okay if it happens again.

Once there was a girl
Who never left the house,
So once her heart finds
its way home,
She'll be able to
welcome her on her arms
once more.

One day, heart will come
when she arrives,
She will tell her about what it's like to be out there.

She'll tell the story about how she met someone during the cold rainy days,
How nice he was to shelter her and made her cozy

And how he left because he thought she was too cold
And that he needed other things to give her a ***** feeling

And she'll confess about the moments she longed for his return and how the hope she once had flickered.

She will talk about
how she took all the courage
to go out that comfort
and how she was able to
pack all her strength to
head her way home.

And that she's glad to be home though not on time but never too late.

When you said
you wanted us an end,
my heart raced,
skipped a beat,
died a bit.

I was torn-
a little,
in two,
in pieces.

Forget about the
tarnished pages, tingy blues,
tattered memories, ties severed, a love that died long ago.

Papers stained of sweaty inks, tear scented poetry,
someone lives
between the lines-
you.

To trust someone
is something frail
you give others.

They break it with ease,
You're left alone to fix.