Clutching a burning match, he said “look, and she’ll explode”. Ignored the gas he poured; his match caused my implode.
ALETHEIA LIOLAThe only way I’ll ever choose to taste sweet love again, Is if he tells me, he loves my mind, and the way I use my pen.
More Aletheia Liola Quotes
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I compare myself to the leaves; dead, yet dancing in the breeze. Is it meant to hurt this much, falling from the trees?
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Love is easier to carry than hate. So I untangle from my past and realize my fate. Transcend the pain to forgiveness, to nurture my scars. We are what we witness, and we are also stars.
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Truth as my armour. My sword as my pen. I’ll do what I will to prevail again. Shining so brightly so they shot me down. Did they not know how hard I would bounce?
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After the flood, the colors were brightened demand tears of pain to feel so enlightened. Lassoed hope from the clouds that caused it to rain, divine intervention to feel love again.
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Be aware of the judgments that you and others conjure. The words reflect the inner world; the doctrines that you sponsor.
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I dragged my pain into the darkness, I carried it into the light – No matter where I choose to take it, This pain refuses to subside. I washed my sins off in the ocean, I prayed all my badness away, Whichever God I choose to worship, I cannot make my soul be saved.
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Sobriety is something I’ll never reach. There’s always another day, another urge to defeat.
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I have a habit of seeing through the cloak that they wear to hide what truly resides in their soul. I have a habit of tearing out skeletons from the blackest of closets; although it’s never the goal. I have a habit of forcing others to look in the mirror, at the darkest parts of their soul. And I no longer want to play the role.
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I survived the darkness. Crawled. Clawed. Endured. Untangled lies from truth. This wisdom is my sword.
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I can feel her resurrecting. The one he thought he had killed. Strength realised in her resting. It was worth all the blood spilled.
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Perception is the paintbrush. The reality, the canvas. You are the artist. Create purposefully.
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I think I may be in way over my head. I’ll learn how to breathe underwater instead.
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Trust insinuates that the human race is unfailing, faultless, flawless, and perfect.
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Trust is an illusion. A systematically flawed word. A total forgery of a statement. Trust assumes infallibility – without errors, mistakes, or fuck ups.
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We shined a light through our flaws to our internalistic plea. Emphasized the healing that shall set our lost souls free. We were a brief reflection of what we should not be.
ALETHEIA LIOLA