When the river of love

dries up

heart turns into desert

without any oasis in sight.

You are precisely as my soul remembers you—familiar and unchanged,
Yet somehow distant from what my heart believes you could be. When our souls recognize someone but hesitate to connect,
We must pause or, better yet, swiftly exit through the nearest gate. Our souls carry the memory of past karmic connections,
Familiarity doesn't always mean safety or a genuine bond of love.

We must learn to identify past cycles that are not worth repeating.
Once we have mastered the art of avoiding a repeat of the old drama,
Only then can we move forward with clarity and heal our trauma.

if the reader
falls in love with the character of a book,
their love can be eternal.

he can over and over re-read
each part of his beloved.
he can just stop for a while
and gently touch the mirage.
he can even ****** a piece
and carry it for a lifetime.

but what happens
if the character
falls in love with the reader?

Rolling in time
Strolling along the beat
Don’t know what will come  
All I know I have to hum
To the heat
Storms will pass
I know, I know
What will become?
Rolling in time
Strolling to the beat
Staying out of the heat
Loving each day
Trying to make my way
Everyone rides a storm
You will get out
Strolling along the beat
Don’t take the heat
Storms of life

Back to the bottle to numb the pain,
Tomorrow will I feel shame?
My situation remains the same
Living in my worst nightmare,
My mind and body slain

The scars on my arms remain,
They'll be a few more before our end game
From anger I'll refrain,
I'll take it out on myself,
to save you the blame

You told me
to gather all my things
and leave.

I did.
I didn’t hesitate.

It was as if you had opened
the cage door
that had been keeping me trapped.

I guess I’m sorry
it wasn’t me
who said it first.
But I’m glad—
because this time,
I didn’t let the chance
slip away.

I let go.
I let go of the story I keep trying to tell—
the one where, near the end,
someone comes to save me.

I’ve already learned,
in the most painful ways,
that I will always save myself.
It is my responsibility,
and mine alone.

So I let go
of that narrative where I remain
the little girl.

Now I am a woman,
and I choose to write
a different story.