This is not a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.

This is not romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.

All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.

Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.

I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.

This is a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.

This is romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.

All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.

Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.

I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.
I think-

— c.s wondering

what if
you took a step back,
saw your life as
the work of art it is,
made beautiful by
tireless perfectionism and
ultimate lack of control,
treasured creations and
unseen shadows,
internal battles and
conflicting thoughts,
all together striking
balance,
contrast,
a wilderness of
human intricacy?

Get out of the illusion
That someone else knows
more about you
Than you do

You know yourself the best
And you know that

I realize today
That emotion is always fleeting
As are the people
And the places
And the meanings
You were always meant to leave
I was never meant to stay
He wants to move on
She takes it day by day
And as I wait for the next ending
I can only hope for a new beginning

Messing up scares me
so much, I’ve become paranoid
Which messes me up

Sometimes I need to see the ocean
Taste the salt air and feel the motion
Of the waves and the wind
And the world spinning round
When the chaos is too much
The ocean’s where I’ll be found

If I could take a magic potion
Cast a spell or give devotion
Granted any of the powers
That may possibly be
I would quite ecstatically
Transform to a bird of the sea