“She is the perfume that scents the environment she blooms in.”

She wrote for herself, the power of her emotions became pearls of words and ink.

She is the rarest sun gem birthed from the deepest core of Earth sanity.

Her core is filled with gratitude and blooming energy.

She is evergreen with the blend of citrus madness in her being and veins.

December is her month to let go and break open with freedom to be her own hero.

She trusted her inner strength with the colors of gratitude and patience.

She was the scented wilting rose petal that decorated the pages of breaths of someone else.

There is no longer him in her words or heart or mind, finally she is only hers.

She is December with imprinting traces of love daises on white canvas of life.

December will spark the wisdom and knowledge in her breaths so she becomes a new woman in her real form.

Her chilled bones are stolen, to be as guidance and illumination for twisted paths of truth.

Your ego has ruined my honor and happiness.

I crumble into a ball, with the chest pain exploding my soul, the memories and madness is killing me, will you help me?

My ears have started cringing with the amount of whining he does, it leads to my depression.

With tears in my eyes, I wished I had not let them misuse generosity.

My breaths give out the stench of dark black pain, that rooted from the poison you gifted me with love.

Tend to your own garden and watch the beauty you begin to see in others.

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.

Beauty is a treat for yourself. Don’t blind it with your blindness.

You can find beauty in the darkest of places. Be the light, my love. Bring smiles to their faces.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say – Do I see, what is me? Or did his eyes lead me astray?

Poetry isn’t about beautifying the words; Its about stripping off its thick cover and appreciating the rawness.

A wanderer who found beauty in a quiet jungle and went into a mysterious paradise in search of a treasure of silence in which the whole universe hides.

My mother was my beauty icon my whole life.