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 Jan 14 Cyril
Maria Etre
Maybe my heart
was born too small
for the love
it carries...

That's why it
shares it
just to
give itself
breathing
space
 Jan 14 Cyril
Immortality
To be a star,
you must burn.

To be a flower,
you must blossom.

To be art,
you must be created.

To be music,
you must be played.

To be a river,
you must flow.

But to be a lover,
you may not be loved.
I think love should never be conditional...

I’m not perfect, and maybe I’m the most complicated and imperfect girl.
Anddd... a lot of people dislike me and give sarcastic comment for that, buttttt.... my parents and siblings love me unconditionally <3...I thank God every day for it.
It's not about quantity of people, but quality of love, for me..... hehehe..... :)

Remember,
You are never alone; there’s always someone with you.
Maybe it’s just you who are too focused on what's in front of you and haven’t noticed the one standing beside you.
 Jan 12 Cyril
Immortality
No distance,
no time,
only this moment,
you and I,
as if the god above,
has listened to my heart's love.

Life is a series of moments.
One moment happy, the next sad. But when two hearts meet as one, nothing else matters......
 Jan 12 Cyril
Immortality
Once it was love,
now it is a wound,
a gentle reminder,
of what we lost.

It's beautiful and ugly at the same time.... maybe...
I don't know...
 Jan 12 Cyril
Immortality
Trees
 Jan 12 Cyril
Immortality
The trees breathe
in a language
older than time.
I’ve got this massive curry leaves tree in my garden. It’s my unofficial therapist..... hehe
Yep, I share my problems with it—big, small, and downright embarrassing...
But I make sure no one’s watching. I don’t want the neighbors thinking I’ve gone nuts!!
heheheh~~
 Jan 12 Cyril
Immortality
I chase stars
not to hold them
but to feel the burn
of hope
on my hands.

The sky was never
meant to be touched
only to be
reached
even when it
feels too far.

I want make my own destiny.... simple :)
 Jan 2 Cyril
Foogle
And petals, they fall from the trees like pink rain that isn't wet,
suspended in wind, they drift from the sky.
They fall, searching for an answer, invisible to the average passer by, but lighting up a writers shining eyes,
who puts their palm out, in all whispering wonder,
for a glimpse of beauty as it leaves to fly in the spring wind.
This is an adapted version of a poem that was written on the 27th of August.
 Jan 2 Cyril
Foogle
Love
 Jan 2 Cyril
Foogle
Love is an unsaid message
backspaced in a text box
an unsent email
an unexpressed emotion
unwritten on a piece of paper
love is a secret
a warming melody in the icy wind...
 Jan 2 Cyril
Kelsey
I want my writing
To be profound
A work of art you just
Want to hang on your wall
And when you look at it
Day in and out
The words will seep
Back through your skin
And melt in your heart
And suddenly, you feel
Like someone you've never met
Knows you better than
Your closest companions
And somehow that's okay
Because now you know
You've never been alone.
I've finished the first draft of my novel. What I want most is to make an impact on those who read it and to know that my words matter.
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