I packed up my life
Uprooting all I had known
Loss like a knife
On a plane all alone

Only luggage I had
Harsh words in my mind
Not lovely, but sad
Unlike most words I find

They say time will heal
I’m not sure it will
I left, but I feel
I carry it still

Not everything sacred needs to be born of suffering.

Not every acknowledgement needs to come from rock bottom.

My love,
you are allowed to feel peace.
You are allowed to live a joyful life.
You are allowed to experience softness and call it sacred.

So stop using your pain as proof of your depth.
It’s time to retire that narrative,
that your pain is the most interesting thing about you—it’s not!
There are hundreds of beautiful reasons for your existence,
but suffering isn’t one of them.

You can explain every scar.
But when it comes to healing?
You stall.
Because healing isn’t poetic.
It’s messy, boring, frustrating.

Peace makes you suspicious.
If things go too well for too long,
your brain starts poking at old wounds or inventing new ones.
You miss the chaos even though you claim to want peace.

But here’s what you need to know;
you’re still becoming.
You’re still growing.
You can still be profound without bleeding for it.

So allow yourself to heal,
and let joy into your life,
because the best version of you isn’t your pain,
it’s your rebirth.

Don't punish your body for carrying the weight of your soul.
You are meant to be alive.

I hate how you ruined song after song.
It’s not fair that you have that power so strong.
Music is the only thing that makes me belong.
Taking that away is just plain wrong.

It may be cute but hear it from my view,
Getting a song captioned, “this reminded me of you.”
Makes the song stick to you like glue.
So after you hurt me I can’t stand it and take it off queue

All i know is
November yearns,
December cries,
January burns,
February
hate guys.

march learned,
and April fools me
to hair dye.
May hold the grief,
and June learn to hold its tears
to cry.

Boring july
Decided to burn
all your lies.
and august
teach the heart,
Good riddance

September learn to let go
But
here we have October.

we’re always missing,
on October
Don’t we?

I just remembered
thats the month i first called you
my lover

But
Anyways
I almost forgot
November,
was your birthday

Today, I let you go—
not because it’s easy,
but because I can’t live
in the shadows of almost
and what-if anymore.

I was your spare time,
never your choice.
I carried love like a burden
you never asked for.

But this time,
I choose me.

Let them watch—
I will not shrink to stay wanted.
I will not ache to feel enough.

Because I am.
And I will be more than enough
for someone who sees me clearly.

This is the ending.
But it’s also the return—
to myself.