Don’t ever be sad that someone chose someone else.
Don’t hope that they regret it someday or that it doesn’t work out for them.
Hope that it’s the love they have always wanted and dreamed about.
Hope that it’s so on fire that nothing else matters.
Because if someone I like or love chooses someone else I want it to be worth it, I want to know that if I ever met someone that pierced a giant hole through my world that I couldn’t ignore it, I just had to drop everything and gravitate to this person, I want to know that people could understand that. That they know I wasn’t being malicious or mean or deliberately hurtful, that I just could not shake this incredible feeling that I hope everyone is lucky enough to find. However that discovery comes about.
It opens a space up for someone to choose you. .
Check out my top ten tips to simplify your life today via the link in the bio ! Thanks for sharing @soarcollective ! For more info about how I can help you streamline your life, so you can spend more time doing what you love, via Strategy Coaching, visit
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they say grief and fear would taste
the same if they were served together.
but my fear was sowed inside
me by elements that are
always around. like a seed
blown away by the restless wind
to a new
destination. you see fear is a
seed that doesn't need water
to grow. and now it is rooted,
beneath all the flesh, muscles
and heartbeats. i own it.
i know the soil holding the roots
is eroded and the
roots themselves are rotting
so my fear feeds
on the decays of my
thoughts and dreams.
this fear is not a consequence
of overthinking - untill you peel off
every layer of skin from your calluses
rather it is a fear with a face,
i find my fear lurking behind
the eyes that are on me when
i am outside, as heavy as a boulder
kept on my fragile chest
with care and lust.
my fear mocks me
through messages and asks
me to share nudes. one day it
followed me home and stared
at me with eyes as fierce as a bull,
eyes that i stabbed with knife
in my dreams the very same day.
the other day it was peeking through my
father's timid and cautious eyes
when my sister was leaving for
the hostel, alone. my fear lives
permanently in my mother's brown eyes
which are tired now, her dreams are
dead and she is carrying their grave
under her lids
my fear seeped through
a hole in my chest when i read about
because they dared to love,
they dared to be human.
my fear disguises in the
name of religion sometimes
and it spit words that are
wrapped with hatred. i see
them on news channel everyday.
my fears together
sound like the screams in a riot.
smell like ashes in a burned house.
my fear - like a black slug - lives
inside my own stomach.
a sensation that always
ring in my head.
fear tells me that i am not
getting rid of it and nobody is.
nobody is brave enough to
dig it out and
the only fearless in this world
are the corpses lying
under the ground,
holding the ruins of
their own fears.