Different seasons, same cycle.
Almost at the verge of surrender, I looked up and gave it all
Feeling the rays of the sun on my face while the warm breeze caressed my skin
I was tired of running around, of starting far too many times and often ending up with the same results.
I took my pen and laid all my emotions on paper, hoping someone would come to read and save me from this recurrent cycle.
Will I ever be worth saving?
I let my pen bleed for my heart
Recounting the memories from my happiest times
Trying to feel every pain caused by untold heartbreaks
It was dark and devastating, but the words were so beautiful that pain became my muse.
I forgot how it feels to be in love
I refused to feel that I deserve to be loved, to be seen for who I am behind my words
But then you came—
Holding your own pen, you reflected the beauty that I’ve tried so hard to conceal with darkness
You managed to find the flicker of light in the deepest corner of my heart
You appreciated the cracks, decoded the mystery that others found daunting
You stayed when I was at my worst—
When undesirable things creeped in, you held me tighter
You pursued because you understood.
You completely felt the emotions that inspired my story
You recognized my heart.
You made me realize that I do not deserve to be saved;
Because I can completely figure my way through each twist and curve
You make me feel like poetry—
A special piece that is molded with all things dark and bright,
Worthy to be understood and appreciated,
Maybe not by everyone, but definitely by someone who dares to accept and stay.
Finally, I found you.