I Feel Fragile When…

I feel fragile when you see me cry. That’s when you see the real me. This broken little girl. You don’t see the strong distant independent woman. You get to see the girl who owns the heart you broke. I am vulnerable as you see the tears fall from my eyes. I am no different than the girl you left a few months ago. That’s what also makes me feel so fragile. You don’t believe that I am stronger because you just filter my battle scars with my falling tears- just another babyface to you.

As I fall to my knees and cover my face with my trembling hands, you would have believed you won this match, but have they ever told you that those who cry are the strong ones?

You see, my friend, I allow myself to cry because I am brave. Only someone so strong can let their guard down when they know it can be so hard to do yet feel so true. I am a soul filled with bundles of emotion. The very same emotions that allow me to shine. I now see how people like you take advantage of people like me; simply because you are missing the essence of life that only exists within our, my, very heart.

You envy that part and try to steal that away from me. And when you left me, you thought I would have lost the light that made me ever so glow. But you’re wrong- the innate life I carry can never fade away.

Good always wins at the end of the day, I hope you also know that. I am fragile as you see the drops forming a puddle beneath me. However, don’t you dare mistake me for surrendering. I never sell myself to the devil- my mom, my morals, and God have taught me better than that.

Sometimes watching the vulnerability of someone can say a whole lot about yourself. I hope you feel uncomfortable-not guilty-just uncomfortable enough making it hard to swallow. So, you can learn to not hurt those who do no harm.

I feel fragile when you see me cry.

I am fragile.

But I’m also strong. Now, look at that.

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Sweet Dreams Can Come True

Somewhere Only We Know

I have this dream of helping people- mankind really. The reason why I say it’s a dream, not a goal, is that it can’t always be true, so I’ve learned. I learned that I cannot please everyone, which I find hard to accept. But I know that I will accept it eventually because I already know that this world is an unfair place. It has always been that way- the good and the wrong. Dare I say the notion of heaven and hell?

I guess what’s bothering me the most is how easy it is for people nowadays to just give up and always assume the worst. This is where mankind is heading- but that is…if I can stall that for a bit…can I?

So my dream is to help mankind-everyone-which can seem impossible, right?

Nope- I don’t believe in the word impossible, because I can do something about it- I can try. So that is why I make it my goal every day to at least cheer up one person’s day- which I can’t argue is impossible. And it brings me sweet spirits when I make someone smile.

Nothing is impossible. It’s the matter of how you can steer yourself into the desired pathway you aim to walk through.

I won’t give up. Accepting that sometimes things it won’t work out is part of the process but there’s never a one way to things. I don’t think so.

Sincerely,

your young damsel sixteen-year-old girl

The Damsel and the Rose

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I picked the petals off the wilting rose- well… I tried to.

One petal dropped, the rest no more.

 

The vibrant colours are in too deep,

Life-bearing,

I think to keep.

 

With a smell so nostalgic, it sings to me.

I can’t let go,

It’s meant to be.

 

Her enchanting grace blooms soft kisses to my cheek.

My head falls low,

My eyes too weak.

 

My fingers caress her elegant touch.

Silk so softly,

Won’t lose the clutch.

 

Was once an ever-blossoming beauty,

Her wilted petals,

Are her everlasting glow.

 

Perhaps these wilting petals are there for a reason.

To explain something ever so peculiar to tell.

Yet I ponder to my young damsel soul,

If my wilted petals will ever so glow.

Will I admire my wilting petals as much as I admire the rose’s beauty?

 

If I will lose my youthful tone,

Won’t it be fair to love my femininity throne?

 

Through time I will wrinkle.

But nonetheless, I hear her say,

That my dear wilted petals will ever so twinkle.

 

Her resisting pulls on the petals I want,

Tell me that I,

Can’t force an unwritten fate.

 

“Live your life.

The petals may fall.

Yet fascinate the time,

Your everlasting all.

 

No, you won’t disappear.

You, young dear child, listen to me…

My petals,

Your aches,

I suffer too, little one…slowly withering away- my time has come.

 

But dear, I will tell you how rich and beautiful I feel deep inside.

It’s time that you see the light you carry within inside.”

 

And there,

Her last,

piece

of

petal

dropped.

 

 

 

 

 

Elastic Heart- Part I

Guardain ANgel
Guardian Angel

She saw it today.

Watching him walking away with someone she never could have imagined with.

 

Heart tearing,

Knees sinking,

Head spinning,

Eyes weeping.

 

It never struck her how hard she was falling for someone until she was near the edge of losing herself;

Effortlessly hurting herself.

 

Alarms go off each time the memories flash behind her eyes.

 

Her tears blinding her view;

Only to find that they are to comfort her into a delicate cleanse.

Washing her face, memories hit back as her godmother nurtures her torn out damsel’s heart.

 

Obsessive thoughts intertwine into an everlasting headache.

Lying on the cold hard ground,

Her fragile body still as it forms an earthquake,

Trembling into one last sound.

 

She feels hands pulling her up,

Fluttering their wings above her,

Telling her to keep her head up,

Breathe- count one, two, four.

 

Their angelic embrace,

Wiping away her dropping tears,

Trying to hold her in place,

Her guardian angel rescuing her from her haunting fears.

 

Waking up from the illusion,

A spell so strong.

Infatuation confusion,

She doesn’t need no breakup song.

 

She is a heroine, a fighter and magical.

She uses her superpowers that can resurrect her heart from war.

 

Her heart doesn’t break, nor will it ever do so.

Through it may stretch, her heart will never fall apart- it’s shell and encase is elastic.

And it will conquer all stabs, to only find, her heart to form again… into one.

 

She won’t ever break, dear I say.

Bruises, scars are there for a reason.

Another battle today, another time to remind herself where her feet shall stand.

 

She has an elastic heart.

Everyone’s Beautiful Angel- The Shattering Truth

Angelic Light

 

 

She is told that she is a confident girl,

Yet they do not know the poison she mutters to herself in her late-night world.

 

Lying awake, bloodshot eyes;

All the smiles she fakes,

Feed deep into her sweet white lies.

 

“You are a very happy and outgoing person.”

If only they knew how she is when she is alone.

Tired of it all, taking in so much.

 

Everyone’s little angel.

How foolish to ever picture her broken wings;

So light, pure radiance.

Crushing inside, silent aches.

Seldom though, the truth is hidden.

 

“Oh, you are such an extrovert.”

Not one bit,

But she doesn’t argue- it’s better that way.

 

She wears her mask every day,

Til’ right cold at night,

Where she lay,

Trying to be alright.

 

Conversations she keeps,

On a constant replay,

Are so deep,

Her own minds betray.

 

She wakes to late-night nightmares,

Obliged to use different shades,

To conceal her tired eyes at dawn.

 

She smiles with all her heart,

To disguise the pain behind her eyes.

 

‘I want to make them see the potential they have,’

She reminds herself.

Holding herself once more in, before getting off her bed-

No one’s got a clue.

 

It can be frightening,

To enter her world.

To only find scars, bruises, and tales,

That don’t match her persona.

 

‘Well, diary, it was another successful day- I made a person’s day today. I look forward to it again tomorrow.’

She closes her diary- shuts the light,

Staring into the cold dark night.

 

No one knows,

It doesn’t worry her,

Not one bit,

So it goes.

World Humanitarian Day

Humanitarian's Day.png
“On August 19, we celebrate World Humanitarian Day to honour those who carry out our mission. Each and every day, our global network of volunteers and staff works to bring lifesaving help to people in 190 countries around the world.” – Canadian Red Cross

It was World Humanitarian Day last Sunday.

Another time I remind myself for what I aim to stand for.

There’s no denying that this world isn’t a fair place.

War, abuse, poverty, and corruption. Things individuals commonly think of when swiping onto the world’s news.

That part of the news filters the light that is also going on in places- our world.

Global awareness, mindfulness, positive self/public advocation and welfare. Things that open an individual’s mind to the belief that the world can be united. Hope and truth.

You see, there’s even a day celebrated and dedicated to humanitarianism on a global scale.

I believe. Believe in the everlasting works of human welfare, global justice, and world peace.

It’s out there. I see it everyday.

It doesn’t matter about how the hours you need to make, money donated, or shelters visited. It can be as small as a smile to a stranger.

I know a humanitarian when I see one. I feel their every wish and moral intentions when it comes.

I try my best to not miss and lose one. They may be rare to come by but never impossible to find.

Invite yourself into their world, they’d be glad to share and welcome you into humanitarianism.

Always a step closer into making the world into one,

A step closer to humanity.

 

Sincerely,

An aspiring humanitarian sixteen-year-old girl