whoever told you
words had power
lied.
it is in how you use them
that the power
resides.

i know how it feels at night
when all you can think about
is your pain.
and how it feels to wake up,
to pick up the broken pieces
and carry them with you
through a whole new day.
i can see the roads
left on your cheeks,
where your tears traveled down
back into your weary heart.
i can hear the words,
under your chest
and in your soul,
the ones you are
afraid to even whisper.
i have walked in your shoes,
and worn out my soles,
trying to run from the hurt
and the reminder of it.
i have felt my own heart
constantly cracking,
like i know you can yours,
until i realized
it could never be whole again,
if hope was not reborn.
so, dear brokenhearted,
please:
do not get tired of waiting.
all your crushed heart needs
is some rebuilding.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, he rescues those whose spirits are crushed." - Psalm 34:18

stop
and make time
for the things you love,
or the things you love
will stop
making time for
you.

a short, but very necessary, reminder.

they run through my veins.
my past experiences,
the times i've fallen
and the times i've stood up.
they run through my veins.
my dreams,
the answers to my purpose,
to my identity,
to my beliefs.
they run through my veins.
the people who have hurt me,
the one's that i've forgiven
and those that
have forgiven me.
they run through my veins.
every tear and every smile.
every glimpse of a second
that has made me
stronger, and brighter.
everything i am,
is because
they run through my veins.
the letters that spell out
redemption.

grace is what keeps my heart going.

my friends they ask me
why i haven’t packed.
i say i do not know.
when really it is quite obvious,
i have difficulties
with letting go.
before i pack all my belongings
before i’m ready to leave the nest
i must pack up my soul
and carry in it all i love.
i need to take with me
all those times my mom
made me chocolate chip pancakes.
i have to
memorize the faces of every one
of my friends
until i can recall each of
their smiles and traits.
i want to fold my grandpa’s laughter
like a shirt that i can tuck away
in the drawer of my mind.
and i want to hold on
to those moments,
the one’s that make letting go
so hard.
i think that if i manage
to pack up
every bit of my heart,
then it won’t matter
what i put inside my luggage.
i will always be carrying
home.
no matter how far
we are apart.

because i literally packed a day before leaving. hardest thing ever.
© Copywrite Rosa Lía Elías

if we are  
like the sun,
let every person
that orbits around
our life
be changed forever.
by our grace
and our light.
may we never leave
a soul untouched.
instead let us
leave all souls sun-kissed.
that when
our time comes to hide
below the horizon
our rays stay concealed
in the twilight.

part one of this poem is in my profile if you'd like to read it. sorry I haven't posted in a while, been busy moving into college.
© Copywrite Rosa Lía Elías

we think that we own life
when really,
it owns us.
for it is feeble.
a vapor in the wind,
quickly come and
quickly gone.
we think
we are like the sun,
that life moves
around our wishes.
and yet
how quick
are we to forget
that just as
the sun must rise,
the sun must also set.

appreciate every second.
© Copywrite Rosa Lía Elías
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