I give forgiveness like salt and pepper in a restaurant – Turn my world upside down and it’ll pour out of me, flowing freely, until I’m empty.
ALETHEIA LIOLAOur interpretations reflect our imperfections. We will always read between the lines, but we decide what we choose to find.
More Aletheia Liola Quotes
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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.
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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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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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A part of me died on the battlefield and a part of me was born. Vulnerability shed like peeling skin. Trust from my core was torn. I was caught between a disassembled heart and a young and fearful mind. I made peace with these pieces as I fell apart with the courage that I made mine.
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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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Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say – Do I see, what is me? Or did his eyes lead me astray?
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Why do I see in a world gone blind? I always longed to find the answers, took chances. Asked for the veil to thin. Fault? Mine. Left questioning; my eyes, blessings or curses?
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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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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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Move from reactionary; seek neutrality. It’s the only way to truly be free.
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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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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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Trust insinuates that the human race is unfailing, faultless, flawless, and perfect.
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I survived because the fire I have inside me burns brighter than the fire that surrounds me forever thriving with blazing vitality.
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I think we all long for someone we can be disgustingly honest with, and for them to love us anyway, and stay.
ALETHEIA LIOLA