LIVIA'S BOOKLET

I've found the strength to stand tall and face the tide. My river flows once more, its currents inside. I'll never negotiate with chaos's wild demands. I'll never harbor guilt's heavy burdensome hands.   The moon aligns with my heartbeat's gentle pace. The ocean cradles my rage, a soothing embrace. I celebrate my kindness, my grace so true. I adore my softness, my empathy shining through.

How do you mend what makes you imperfect? I once read: “Stop bearing others’ pain; it’s not your burden.” On days when your demons dance before your eyes, and you feel trapped within your own skin, when screams echo in your mind— that’s when you should let it all go. It shouldn’t always be you rebuilding walls from ashes. Who’s left to heal the wounds of others. Who will gather every paralyzing moment of chaos and tuck them away. Learn to draw boundaries.  

  Dearest Aku; I have learned a lot since you left. You shattered my heart, but still, I have learned to be kind to others and to empathize with their pain, for I now understand the feeling of being unloved, disrespected—not cared for, and kept in the dark. I know how words can hurt and pierce the soul, leaving a void. Your absence has taught me the torment, the suffering—the misery of realizing the extent of emotional damage from being left alone to deal with things. I never realized how terrible it was until you failed to respond to all fourteen of my previous letters, written to you with love. I have trained my mind to be stronger than my emotions, and I will never be the reason someone endures the agony of rejection.  

  Dearest Aku; I gently write this note to you for I have a bunch of points I have come to realize. I have realized that; Being a nicest person doesn’t get you loved, rather it gets you used. At my own cost, I tried to bring peace but you kept blaming me for a fire you started. I have been kind-warm-giving out second/double chances but that never made you change still – It only made you respect me less. I felt at home and got comfortable in your arms, little did I know you didn’t want to hold me. I thought; “Maybe I am my own problem” I give out too much and expect a reciprocal But you just never cared enough. Like a child playing with crayons you kept scribbling all over my heart. I read somewhere that said; “Distance yourself from people that bring out the person you’re trying not to be anymore, and surround yourself with people who reciprocate everything you give and let your souls dance there.” You muted all my bright colors and altered the way I ex

  In the flame of your lies I burned. I watched you rip me off like a band aid. With betrayal sealed up on your lips you peeled me slowly layer by layer.

I am a woman who feels very sentimental today, There is a man whom I once loved very much, The man whom I met when I had nothing much or life experience. I met this man when I felt sorry Because I couldn’t meet up to the standard of his lifestyle, When I felt sorry for I couldn’t make up my face and dress on high prices Like the rest of the girls around him. I met this man when I had no courage on myself When I knew nothing but loyalty and honesty, When I was so faithful and devoted to just one soul, I worshipped the ground he walked on! But one day, this man said he couldn’t handle me anymore And he left! He left me shattered and broken Wordless and agonized He left me lost and crashed my trust My self-esteem, my honesty on Instant.  

1.    I’m just a girl growing up amidst abuse, I sowed dreams in the little pair of my twinkling eyes dreams to change the world. Every time I look in the mirror I’m enchanted with utter joy that’s filled with aches to see myself growing into a beautiful scorned woman. I ran my fingers through my face reaching the crest of my lips, thinking of ways to give my curves an oomph adoring my body for hours-what on earth this masterpiece is. My faith in humanity was shuddered when first my rights were violated a shiver ran down my spine and I couldn’t move, But I realized; “ a woman’s life is miserable, but all she wants is to reach home safely by the end of the day .”  

    They say; “I don’t write proses about laughter,” that; “sorrow is always the protagonist in every prose I write.” They say; “I am addicted to sorrow and agony.” Have you yet noticed the smiles I wear on pictures? They say; “it's all fake” that; “I often smile back to the heartbroken me.” They say; “I’m tied to the scent of roses,” that; “I put on a smile with them in my hands whilst I am groaning inside to the pain of the thorns.” And I ask; “All these proses I have written do they really reach their desired destinations?” and that; “do you all know the desire and passion buried inside them? Or maybe you are just full of mockery?”

  1.    Like white Sunday clothes you promised to love me. I cling to you cause I thought you made me feel good but you were killing me softly Red eyes Broken ribs Twisted wrist Swollen face a Broken heart is this what you call love?