Reaching for the stars

Taking a leap to the stars,

but ever so scared I’ll fall.

Although maybe,

just maybe,

I would fall onto a cloud. 

And if I happen to fall on top of a cloud,

the landing will be softer than usual.

I never really reached for the stars before. 

I’ve always thought I’m not worth anything,

therefore my goals and my being is worthless.

Not anymore, though.

Now, 

I am driven, filled with passion and ready to take life on. 

Success confusion

Don’t confuse money with success.

Success can come in so many forms that it is completely and utterly impossible to gauge it in any way.

Money is a currency, 

a saddening fact of life is that we need it to function.

But don’t get it twisted, 

money is not, 

and will never be everything.

Success for some is achieving their goals, 

however extravagant they may be,

and for some, 

it’s simply getting through the day.

For a lot of people,

money is confused with success,

when the truth of it is that it’s all a matter of perspective. 

The only person that can judge your own success is yourself.

After all,

 you are the commander of your life, 

the decider of your dreams and the one who makes the choices. 

My Life.

Have you ever considered,

just for a second,

that I want to be who I truly am?

Not only do I want this,

I need it. 

I need to be myself in every single sense of the word.

But I am stuck,

for there are people that doubt my choices.

They doubt and criticise me.

The truth is,

no matter how much ‘advice’ you give me,

I am going to strive to be the best version of myself,

not your favourite version.

Not anyone’s favourite but my own. 

This is my life, you are just a visitor in it. 

Forgotten soul

I am a forgotten soul.

People are so very quick to abandon me.

I don’t know why this is so,

am I doing something wrong?

What have I done?

Am I not kind enough? 

Not funny enough?

Or am I just a touch forgettable?

Abandonment has, and probably always will be my biggest fear, 

and here I am – living it, loathing it. 

The road to happiness

“Teach me what happiness is,” she said as she gripped his hand and pulled him in her direction.

He knew he could teach her some things about happiness, but he also was very aware that happiness is an internal venture, that is different for each and every soul.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I cannot simply just teach happiness,” he replied as he held her hand a little tighter, “this is one fight you have to win yourself. And though it may seem difficult, because you’ve never really experienced happiness per se, I believe you can become happy on your own.”

Tears welled in her captivating eyes, for she had heard it all before. He saw this, and held her. 

“The road to happiness is not easy, but I’ll tell you this – it’s certainly worth it, and darling, I’m with you all the way.” 

Suddenly, things felt a little better for her; for she knew she was not alone in her search for happiness. 

Happiness

When it came to happiness,

she had absolutely no idea what to say,

much to her dismay.

For you see, 

she had seldom experienced true happiness in her life.

Sure,

there were occasional moments of glee, 

but they were few and far between. 

She struggled to think of memories in which she was truly happy,

and this hurt her.

Every smile,

a lie.

Every photo, 

a lie.

Every laugh,

a lie.

She knew nothing of how to explain happiness,

or even if it truly existed,

and all she had ever wanted was to feel good for more than just a moment. 

Survival

It is not brave of me to wake up and put myself together on days where I want nothing more than to disappear entirely.

It is not brave to take medication prescribed to me and go through countless hours of therapy.

It is not brave of me to speak of my struggles, to elaborate on what it is like to be me.

It is not brave to accomplish minor goals on a regular basis.

None of this is bravery.. 

This is survival.

The two are often confused by those who have not danced with the devil. 

But those who have?

They know that survival is the only thing on their agenda. 

Anger..

Anger..

my only friend, 

and yet my worst enemy.

It bubbles within,

like lava in a volcano,

and with the same ferocity.

The voices don’t whisper when it comes to anger, 

they yell, 

ever so loudly, 

that not one person’s life is worth a cent.

Mine included.

I feel nothing but anger and therefore I care about nothing but pain. 

Anger..

my only friend

and yet my worst enemy. 

Endometriosis

The pain becomes unreal,

to the point where I no longer want to feel.

It’s been around for years now,

nothing is curing it because not a soul knows how.

I am sucked into depression,

anxiety, insomnia and obsession.

It’s hard not to be this way when you wake up in the morning and you can’t even fucking move,

it’s hard not to cry when everything’s fucking aching and there’s nothing I can do.

Little Pieces/Loves Lost

Little pieces of my heart,

scattered around the world.

For you see, 

each time I have a deep connection with someone,

they automatically steal a piece of it, 

and I mean that in the best way possible. 

The only fault in the matter, 

would be that some of those with pieces of my heart choose to treat them wrong.

They stomp on them, 

leaving me slightly broken, 

not to mention aloof. 

Every time a piece is hurt, 

I feel it. 

Either that, 

or I see it.

And that makes me scared and sad. 

So I hide, 

not in the sense of disappearing physically, 

more so in the sense of burying my feelings into a jar, 

marked, 

“Loves Lost.”