“The berries of her love bleed, wilt and get scorched with the harshness of pain that is masked by smile.”

She is a passionate being that fills his lungs with the power of her love and raw emotions that strengthens his core,

The world we live in is a forest of frost, with crystal ice webs of lies and deception.

Her tears of pain transformed into jewels of resilience as soon as she started with soul deep self love.

Veins has always been a weakness for her and that lead to the flowing of self destructive poison for her life.

She is his shyness, pride and the symphony of his life’s orchestra.

There was a time period where she was scattered and floating with broken chips and now she is whole with gold filled strength.

She was a woman who was once dark and destructive and it took courage to stand in front of her ruthless savageness.

Warriors have emerged from the ashes of trials and sacrifices.

She was a moon, that vanished and transformed into fullness.

There was a huge gulf between the one who watered your soil and the one who drain water like roots.

Make your circle precious, full of unique souls.

She had many phases and each was as unique than the other.

It took courage to reach the state of resilience with the adornment of winning over adversity.

Her eyes shone with the radiance of vibrant life reflecting the blossoms of her heart.

She is a woman who values the voices of her aura.

She was the freedom of his existence that rushed in like tsunami, that ignited his breaths into calm.

My heart bleeds at the thought of being unable to live all the lives I have planned in my head.

Abstruse spite bleeds from their mouth. I hear the venom, It’s screaming so loud, And yet so benign Reaction, not roused Their “nasty”, so nice The beast lost its shroud.

All my trauma grown to thorns, he overlooked it all. Perhaps they caused him to bleed in ways I can’t recall.

I’ll allow for this pain to bleed from my pen onto the paper to relieve the pressure from my tortured mind.

Pain shapes us into writers, it cuts our veins open like a sharp knife. But while we are about to bleed dry, we turn our blood into ink.

You hurt and I bleed. What a curse to feel so deeply.

You have always been able to manipulate my heart in such a way that even though I’m bleeding, I offer you band aids that are holding me together.

She plucked a feather from her magnificent wings and dipped it in ink. She wrote poems bled from her scars guided straight from the depths of her heart.