whenever someone asks her “ why are your hands shaking?”, she always responds “ I’m still waiting for his hands to ease mines” , and I guess that, that is love,
knowing that only his touch could calm her agony.

I’m still learning
how to stop myself
from giving your name
to the stars.

How to become a poet:
Let someone rip your soul apart.
And in the need of mending ,
You will replace it with words.

Yes, it still haunts me, your absence,
but, today, when I looked at the sky, at the forest, I no longer needed your arms around me, cause the world itself surrounded me.
The wind in my hair and the sun reflected on my face made me realize how much I’ve been missing the warmth.
My eyes started glowing after the tears washed them so many times, and my lips started to dance on my face.
My coffee tastes the same, coconut fragrance in the air, hot and sweet as you knew it. The only thing that is missing is your lips around my coffee cups.
My morning routine is still the same, with or without your texts.
I no longer look at the night sky, trying to find constellations, and name them after you.I’m looking at the stars to remind myself how beautiful this world could be, even when the dark master it.
My life is the same chaotic disaster and I’m still learning how to control everything that hides in my soul, I’m still learning to embrace my demons.
But, the most important thing is that my heart is mending by herself.
She’s no longer praying for a person that torn her, she’s praying for a someone which made her beat fast again, and when the butterflies came to inaugurate the ceremony, she felt alive again, she felt me.
My confidence came back again, as I’m walking with my friends, laughing until my belly hurts and my eyes are too busy to see if you are, or not, here.
I no longer believe in something called us,
but boy, your pathetic actions made me believe in something called me.
And yes, maybe I’m missing you,
but I’ve realized that I missed myself more.

You had the power.
In all of this time you had the power to release me not only from the prayers that my soul received once with its funeral, but from the grief that came after the ceremony.
To see you praying for me after you threw mud on my grave is making even my guardian angel cry, cause only he understands the hurricane that surrounded me after the peace settled in.
You had the power to release me, so tell me,
was it good using my love for anything but romance?
Was it good leaving me in agony for you soul to bloom ?

And if the answer is positive, I must thank you for helping  me understand that in all of this time I could’ve release myself
from you.