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?

Writing heals if you're in pain
Writing won't let your memories go in vain