Dear Self,

And you told yourself
to despise those moments lost
To confine them into an abyss
Hopeful that you never will remember again.

You told yourself
"  Cherish the brokenness for a life in longing is torture and a life in solitude is bliss."
But you know the truth.

You told yourself
To hold onto the pebbles of reality
in hopes the rough edges will reopen your wounds
to remind you of the gravel you were force to consume.

You told yourself,
"Be like the air rising, for it never falls onto the lips of fantasy"
But you know you are the leaf falling.

You told yourself
but a self has a way of lying to itself.

Sincerely,
Francisco D.H