Beautiful life

When I was broken, my heart pained so much. I could not find the reason to smile or even if I did, I would feel my cheekbone hurt from the force of spreading my cheeks. I read somewhere that noone knows exactly how it feels until you go through it. I started speaking out through writing, talking, observing and living. I saw my heart tear as my brain tried to explain to my hot blood what it means to love deeply. I know what it means to have and to hold, and to be in a dilemma stuck between dreams and reality.

I guess parts of my past still have a way to capture me and influence me. I understand that I heal through speaking a lot about my past but not present. 

Breath, breathe, breathing…

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