watercolor thoughts [completed]

LIV | c a t h a r s i s

A / N  :  i'm stuck in a writer's block . . .  and here is the poem i'm writing that hopefully gets my mojo going, you know? i've been so inactive lately, and the writer's block is the reason why. 

not sure why this poem is the first thing that came to mind. but here. take this offering.

thank you @Shahiramms for your great advice on how to edit this poem! also thank you for your support and love. 

catharsis 

i am sorry

if i sound empty,

if my appearance looks young

but the soul inside is limp and 

old, exhausted of toxins that 

once plagued my bloodstream.

the rule of writing: be broken and

you write well, be full and no one

wants to hear you. 

once i thought i was broken 

and made myself to be broken

but i was young. i am still young. 

i deluded myself and i realized

i had to wake up. i am not broken

and maybe unbroken girls don't 

make history but here. take this 

unshattered parts. maybe someone

can make a home out of them. 

i am sorry if i tricked you.

i am sorry if you realize that i am

not the broken person you wanted 

to hear poems and stories from. do you

take these offerings? here, take this smile.

take this heart that will cry with outrage 

for you. there, here is a tear for the unspoken

voices out there. i may not be broken but 

i still have stories to tell,

and as unbroken i am are you still willing 

to build up these walls. of support. of love.

i may be inadequate but my words may be 

worth more. 

look at me. i ramble and i speak words and 

i probably will never understand your struggle.

i cannot fathom your pain. i can write about

tragedies and sad stories but i experience as 

much as an ordinary girl should. heartbreaks. 

deaths. moving on. do you still want to hear

stories from me? stop. tell me your stories.

sing to me, muse, of the injustices you have 

suffered under the fingernail of fate and let

me soothe it for you. dress it in lavender and

cool. let me try to understand. sympathize.

catharsis come slowly. it came for me, 

leeched me of the toxins of delusion and i 

am released from self-pity. let it come from you,

muse, sing me songs of sorrow that sit deep

in your bones, songs you compose that

eat away at you, that both heal and consume, 

and let it go. like a broken promise. because we

are made of broken promises and made of

lavender and tea. 

take this confession. swaddle it in gold. 

it is full of truths that the world fails to keep.

here you have an alien to this world of cold

and dirge. do not make me welcome. 

distance me but again i want to hear your 

stories of resilience, muse. your stories of hope.

your stories of eyes shattered like glass or 

bones weighed down with foam and tell me

of the world of shattered dusk and bone. 

perhaps do welcome me. maybe soon i will

be a native of this land. welcome me. tell me

that one day, this war zone will be yours

to behold. tell me that one day i can plant

lavender in sowed-salt lands and paint these

skies with rosy-fingered dawns. 

catharsis. 

drain the river styx from yourself,

the streams of hate.

drain the river phlegeton from yourself,

the streams of rage. 

drain the river cocytus from yourself, 

the streams of lamentation.

drain the river acheron from yourself,

the streams of sorrow. 

catharsis. 

this is my catharsis. 

- and tell me is this how the poet's journey ends?

A / N : leave your thoughts, i'd deeply appreciate it (because it has been awhile, you know? long time no see?)

thank you for staying with me.