An old friend reminded me how good it feels to write about feelings and owning up to them and who you are. Best regards to her.
I used to rest my sad soul in poems.
My heart used to mend through the words,
That I put down on paper.
My tears would become sentences,
And my lows would become stories.
Looking back,
I have nothing but respect,
On how beautifully I'd transform my aches
Into something so pure and healing for my
Broken, broken soul.
Looking back,
I have nothing but gratitude,
For the people that hurt me,
For the people that helped me grow,
And for the people that loved me enough,
For me to finally love myself.
And for now,
For the people that love me
For who I learnt that I am,
And for who I love to be,
And for the ones that stayed,
I am thankful.
