I Guess The Opposite Of Loneliness Is Not Intimacy, But The Ability To Exchange Profound Thoughts With

Intimacy was never spoken through physical touch... but only when you truly see into someone and find a reflection of yourself. That moment becomes undeniable proof that you exist. That person feels like a continuation of you.. another consciousness, free and independent, yet intimately connected...They are a once lost part of you that you never knew was missing, and when you finally find them, you feel whole for the first time...You are seen. You are heard profoundly.And that, truly, is what intimacy means.

I know it's late to be asking for things,

because in my heart you've never left, even though you did.

Don't blame the ink for the blood we shed,

or our souls for the devotion they gave.

Could you walk through me and enjoy your mess?

Everything that was burned will never ever bloom.

I visited hell once and screamed ur name until I fell apart, than I was reborn again and forgot that suffering still exists

You were still holding out hope that I might look at you and immerse in your black eyes, I'd have come back if I gave you a proper farewell, and explained to you why did I suddenly disappear, however.. your love made me feel lost so I got to lose you in order to find my way..

You were staring at me.. assuming that you still hold any power over me...however, I looked away with an empty eyes and that was my revenge...

I've been craving summer for decades the season where the heat compensates you for the loneliness of being human. Where the sun dares to descend lower and burn the miserable coffin, which mostly forgets its lost identity, being nothing more than human skin~

Those echoes of laughter are what I’m nostalgic for. A wave of deep nostalgia hits me whenever I reach such peaks of happiness, knowing that the kind of joy a family provides is irreplaceable. I stare at everyone, wishing I could carry the details of each one of them in my heart for eternity. It shatters me the mortality of every moment we share together. There will come a fatal day when death interferes and takes away what was meant to remain forever, leaving me with the duty to create an inseparable bond of my own. I know I would have failed at life if my children don’t get to experience what we had, those memories, those bursts of laughter, and the overwhelming nostalgia that, at times, feels like it could have killed me...

I’ve been blaming the mind for staying awake during our dreams, but oh God, seeing him after being gone is another form of compensation. He was here, touching me and staring deeply at me. For a fleeting moment, I could be with him, and what a pleasure it was to be with the one I love the most. Then I was forced to return to this dimension, where he is no longer here. I woke up with the feeling that a part of me is missing... please bring him back..

I've always tried to find love elsewhere, so I ran away from the unconditional love of my family and sought endless friendships and relationships, hoping to fill the void. Eventually, I returned to them, drained and exhausted, and they accepted me for the millionth time. I was too stubborn to realize the love they had for me. I'm no longer invisible or depressed. Love has healed me, saved me, and made me who I am today..

Dear mother

I can't tell if my grief is caused by the past you went through or the past you made me go through. In the end, my heart refused to condemn you and has condemned itself. We are both two little girls who have survived violence, unfairness, and so much pain. In your eyes, I see your blood covering your body, and in my own eyes, I see you sending me love in the most violent way because you simply never received it. The memory of me sitting on your lap will never leave my head; we were looking out the window, watching life outside behind the glass, while we were stuck in that sort of prison. Still, I hate the idea of victimizing ourselves, but to me, we are true survivors. Dear mother, forgive me for hating the old angry version of you; the little girl I was invented that kind of self-defense mechanism to protect herself. She couldn't afford to lose herself in your hands; she only wanted to be saved. Mom, instead of succumbing to my deep desire to end my own life, I chose to survive for you. So, I forgive you, Mother. Please accept my apology.