He always preferred the way my eyes looked after they had cried. I wish he knew how fine they looked once he had said goodbye.
ALETHEIA LIOLAShe’ll find peace in the solitude, in the depths of the well. The darkness alludes to how far she fell. And perhaps, the view is better from way down afar, It keeps the water still In her reservoir.
More Aletheia Liola Quotes
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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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How do we trust others when we can’t even trust ourselves?
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You, a God I worshipped Your word was music to my ears Rose-tinted glasses: verdict You confirmed all my worst fears.
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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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Wound to wisdom, pain to power. A seed of grief, now time to flower.
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She’ll find peace in the solitude, in the depths of the well. The darkness alludes to how far she fell. And perhaps, the view is better from way down afar, It keeps the water still In her reservoir.
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You can find beauty in the darkest of places. Be the light, my love. Bring smiles to their faces.
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Sobriety is something I’ll never reach. There’s always another day, another urge to defeat.
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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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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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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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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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My bloody hands that hold on to faith. Learned that we grow with pain and not age.
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Perception is the paintbrush. The reality, the canvas. You are the artist. Create purposefully.
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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.
ALETHEIA LIOLA