I wish someone had told me — that I could just live in each moment as it passed us by, in each second that slowly ticked away without having to be so fixated, on how I spent all of these little moments of our fleeting lives. Beautiful scars of life painted on my neck, mute witnesses of all the glory of the battle I fought everyday.
I wish someone had told me — that it was okay, just to be another ordinary person in this spectrum of the extraordinary, that I could have lived less burdened being everything I was not made to be. When everything just failed and broke down between all the battlefields full of strings and ropes; knowing how easy it is for life to unknot. I like to think of it in this way; time does not have a brake nor an option to — reverse, it simply go forward unrelentingly seemingly without any care of the world.
I wish someone had told me — that as if my heart has tripped and fell into the forgotten labyrinth of wanderlust where all imminent sadness and confusion lurks behind in the nook where all the shadows belong, ever reminding me that it’s easy for the dark to engulf my heart in one piece. But no one ever told me that it was okay to actually — breathe.
I wish someone had told me,
inside the epitome of my depressing reality, which makes it all too late when I started realizing my voice is trapped inside the lost decree that I made myself somewhere between all my insecurities and broken self-worth,
— this soul still wish someone had ever told, to reached out, so I could have been less scared to finally walking across the road, to live life.
