I used to write with my face and soul hidden from the world. I never wanted to be seen, but to be understood. I used to write with passion, idea, and hope now i struggle to find the words that describe my stable mind. Anonymous is what I want to be. Forgotten to the world for a mere moment and be hidden once again. Maybe then I’ll be able to express it all as raw as possible.

Walking through the doors of silence, a silence the world struggles to embrace. Pages flicking vigorously, mice clicking impatiently, chatter being shushed continuously. “Just these titles today?” states the librarian, “Yes please!” says the young boy, excited to go on another journey. “Excuse me, where’s the languages section?” “To your right sir, we have many!” These conversations are loud, but in their own beautiful way. There aren’t cars racing by, nor are there people screaming in anger.. there’s just a calm, collected silence sprinkled with sounds to make you smile.

One last breath, We have officially lost you. We will no longer get to see your wonderful smile walk through the front door. We will no longer get to hear your immaculate sarcasm and hear your laugh. We will no longer get to witness your loving presence and hear your stories. But with this loss, Everyone came together. Everyone is remembering you. We think of the laughs, the sarcasm and the stories. Through you we’ve experienced hope, Through you we’ve experienced happiness, Through you we’ve experienced love. Because of you, we now know how to love. We love stronger, wiser and intensely.

Over the hill, I see you. Standing tall, ambitious and hard working. I see you checking off every goal you had written. I see you standing in strength, staring across the horizon. You are not one to let others down, You hold yourself in high regard. You constantly show others what they’re worth to you, And you never shy away from that. Over this hill, I see you. I see the person I’m so infatuated with.

In many forms, you’re so wonderful. In a glass, mug, takeaway cup. Pure in your form with so many origins. The aromatic form you come in is exquisite. Herby, flowery, fruity. Carmelly, chocolaty, nutty. Every sip is made to satisfy. Always providing an incredible feeling.

It used to be much easier to forgive than to forget. But now there’s no excuse. There’s no reason for people to not explain their choices. It may be pettiness but I don’t want to forgive you. You don’t even deserve the forgiveness. You destroy everything in your path. You burn every bridge you build.

It used to be much easier to forgive than to forget. Forgetting was so hard for me. Having those memories burn through. Constantly seeing and feeling the pain you caused me. Yet it seems that my mind has exhausted it. I’m burnt out from remembering. It’ll no longer replay in my mind until I’m triggered once again.

It used to be much easier to forgive than to forget. And now I’ll never forgive, And I’ll purposefully forget.

Time and time again I’d imagine, What it be like to achieve such status. Scared, concerned and uneasy. The whole thought process consumed me. It felt as though something was restricting my mind, Not allowing me to surpass the fear. It took over my body. Had me shaking for what felt like forever. But then after a big breath of fresh air, I felt it melt out of my system. Breathe, collect and explore. And right there did I find, The confidence in teaching a class. It all started with “Miss, what can we call you?”

For so long I struggled with the concept of accepting myself. It was always a battle. Food, clothing, style, modesty, respect, lack of. Constantly fighting for a moments peace to feel like one with my soul. Then I realised just that. My soul matters most, and boy has my soul searched.

She’s looked everywhere. Far and close. She loved, hurt and grew. For the first time, she felt the love she needed the most. Her own love. That became unbreakable. Whatever you had to say, wasn’t going to harm her.

“Miss, why’s that every time we ask you what the time is you say, it’s time to get a watch?”

“It’s so you all understand that sometimes you’ll need to learn these things without the aide of others and other things”

“But Miss, you look at your phone and then tell us”

Teaching got me messed up 😅

If wishes fell like rain, then certainly I am a storm. With every spoken word, it pours even more. I dream, I plead and I beg, And yet still, it continues to thunder. This may be a sign, Hopefulness, happiness and wonder. But the connotation that rain has with sadness removes that feeling every time.