You, a God I worshipped Your word was music to my ears Rose-tinted glasses: verdict You confirmed all my worst fears.
ALETHEIA LIOLAHe always preferred the way my eyes looked after they had cried. I wish he knew how fine they looked once he had said goodbye.
More Aletheia Liola Quotes
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Move from reactionary; seek neutrality. It’s the only way to truly be free.
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Lies feel like nails on a chalk board scraping down the marror of my spine and truth feels like harmonious melodies gifted from the hands of the divine.
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How do we trust others when we can’t even trust ourselves?
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Wound to wisdom, pain to power. A seed of grief, now time to flower.
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Our interpretations reflect our imperfections. We will always read between the lines, but we decide what we choose to find.
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Don’t let the ugly in others kill the beauty in you. Let it inspire you to conjure a worthwhile view. Observe their darkness-like space in between the stars. Acknowledged, yet dazzled with the bright beauty of ours. Their darkness is worthy of unconditional love. Just give their ugly, mercy.
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The 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.
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The highest love. Highest power. I will let you in. Devour this anguish, I’m harboring, all to you, surrendering.
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How many wounds can you convert to wisdom? How much pain to power can you permute and fathom? This is your story; rewrite how it’s written.
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Cultural identity; warped and changed. Each of you thinks the other is to blame, It’s created this way, yet we all play a role. We could stop it today if we felt the truth in our souls.
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Have faith in the fall. Sometimes life knocks us down so that we can discover what resides at the bottom of it all.
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You only meet someone, as deeply as they’ve met themselves. So do not allow their demons to condemn your soul to hell.
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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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My bloody hands that hold on to faith. Learned that we grow with pain and not age.
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So what do we say to each other is the language of unspoken? The words are sweet; the space is bitter or is this just the them I’ve chosen.
ALETHEIA LIOLA