LIVIA'S BOOKLET

You took a piece of me with you, Left me shattered, broken, and blue. They whisper, "Move on, let go," But how can I when you're the one I know? Life without you is a hollowed space, A grief that's visceral, a heart that can't replace.

In losing you, I lost my anchor, Drifting now, without a shore. They expect silence, but I'll speak your name, For in the memories, you're still the same. I miss the life we shared, the laughter and the tears, A bittersweet reminder of what we had for years.

I'd have given a limb for you to see the shape of your hand, to see how shiny your eyes would be to hear the sound of your voice and watch the beauty of your steps. My world collapsed around me, the clock kept ticking, I felt frozen in time - stuck between disbelief and sadness - carrying the weight of missing you. And now; To that moment of change which is always painful, where something shifts inside you and you feel like a part of you is forever altered. The bittersweet truth is;  Time doesn't erase pain, It teaches us how to carry it.  

Losing you, I lost my way, Died a little each day. They say time heals, but I'm still searching, For life before your absence left its mark. I'll speak of you, though they may not understand, For in memories, you're still here, and that's all I have.

When you went, a part of me went dark, A light extinguished, leaving only spark. They say I'll heal, but I'm still in pain, Longing for life before the loss, the strain. I'll hold on to memories, though they bring tears, For in remembering, you're still near.

  Lately, I've been gentle with myself, taking the time to meet the parts of me I've been at war with. The other day, I sat with the version of me that felt utterly alone. I let her express herself freely – yelling, crying, releasing all the emotions she'd been holding inside. I didn't rush her or tell her to be strong. Instead, I reminded her that she deserves warm words, soft arms, a safe space, and undivided love. Earlier this week, I had a heartfelt conversation with the version of me that savors solitude. We watched the sunset together, and I marveled at the childlike curiosity reflected in her eyes. Her smiles were contagious, and despite the broken pieces that pierced her skin, she exuded confidence. Yet nobody knows that she cries secretly. Yesterday, I met the quieter version of me – the one who tells many stories but rarely shares her own. I listened intently as she whispered her thoughts, and I listened even more closely to her silence. ...

I have made peace with all the women I once was. I have poured incense and honey, layered flowers at their feet. I used to judge and criticize, to tear myself apart, But now I see the beauty in each fragile, fractured heart. I offer kindness and compassion, a gentle, loving touch, Embracing every aspect, every quirk and every clutch. With self-love as my guiding light, I navigate life's twists and turns, Accepting each chapter, each verse, and each lesson that I learn. I am a work of art, a masterpiece in progress, you see, A beautiful, complex, and ever-evolving tapestry

I have made peace with all the women I once was. I have poured incense and honey, layered flowers at their feet. The weight of memories, the burden of pain, I release it all, like autumn leaves that wither and wane. I let go of the shame, the guilt, and the fear, Embracing the freedom that comes with each passing year. As I heal and release, I make space for the new, A chance to rediscover, to renew, and to break through. I honor the women I've been, and the one I'm yet to be, A phoenix rising, reborn from the ashes of me.

  I have made peace with all the women I once was. I have poured incense and honey, layered flowers at their feet. I celebrate the warriors, the survivors, and the thrivers, The women who paved the way, and those who continue to strive. I draw strength from their stories, from their courage and might, Embracing my own power, my voice, and my light. With every step, I claim my space, my identity, and my name, I am a force of nature, a storm that will not be tamed. I am the sum of all the women I've been, and the one I'm becoming too, A powerful, fierce, and unapologetic woman, rising anew.

  I have made peace with all the women I once was. I have poured incense and honey, layered flowers at their feet. In reflection, I see the paths I've walked, The trials and the triumphs, the lessons learned and talked. I honor each iteration, every step and every fall, For they have led me to this moment, where I stand tall. With every breath, I integrate the wisdom of my past, Embracing the strength and resilience that will forever last. I celebrate the women I've been, and the one I'm becoming too, A tapestry of experiences, woven into a story anew.

I have made peace with all the women I once was. I have poured incense and honey, layered flowers at their feet. In the realm of the divine, I see the goddess in me, A spark of the sacred, a flame that burns wild and free. I honor the cycles, the seasons, and the phases of the moon, Embracing the mystery, the magic, and the wisdom that's been spooned. With every breath, I connect with the earth, the sky, and the sea, I am a part of the cosmos, a thread in the tapestry. I am the women I've been, and the one I'm yet to be, A mystical, spiritual, and eternal being, wild and carefree.

Getting a heart break is never the worst part - it's what comes thereafter what kills you. Choking back sobs - crying on the bathroom floor - feeling their arms around your reflection but not seeing anyone holding you. Memories lingering in the collection, yet none is strong enough   to set you free. Asking yourself if there's an end to such cruel confusion - for you never wished for such delusion. Hoping for a day you'll say their name out loud without feeling like a part of you is missing. Hoping for the day when you don’t have to lock yourself up to avoid meeting people but because being by yourself is enough!

We really ain't the same, You've dragged my name Through every rumour, every whisper But as for me, I call your name out in prayer Asking God to relieve you all the stress and Heal the parts of you that lash out at others. I have always laid your name before the one who sees it all - for His unending love to touch the places in you that hurt so much - that made you hurt others!

I write an elegy to the cruelty of this earth. I am relieving my heart from aches. Taking all the red flags and lies from Those who didn't love me well and Starting a bonfire. I am giving myself a love that will Draw me a bath after having a bad day.   Though I have been taught Yes goes down a lot easier, I am giving myself permission to say No! Not letting anyone tell me different......even me

I have spent so much time Trying to be complete. Spent so much time Convincing myself I'm in my final form. But, I realize that I'm just a rough draft I'm not finished - I am a work in progress, Rewriting myself with new experiences, new mistakes, Reminding myself I'm not supposed to be finished yet, My story is still being written and The best chapters are yet to come.

I used to be a person who responded immediately, double-texted and went above and beyond to keep in touch. A year down the line, I have become quieter, I no longer text anyone unless it's work or urgent personal matters or family and no one texts me either. I am prioritizing my mental health. Whenever I feel the stir of overstimulation, I retreat, I breathe, I pray. I have changed so much in a year. Life have shaped me in some areas and renewed me entirely in others. But, I hate that I still care. It's frustrating to still have feelings for people who no longer are a part of your life. The idea of them being with someone else makes you break down randomly - it upsets your stomach. I have been struggling to adjust to all these changes - my mind have been cluttered with so many thoughts - my emotions felt so much to bear - I could hardly catch my breath. I learnt to cast my burdens in exchange for rest, to worry less about things that didn't trouble my yesterday - navigating...

I'm tired of being labeled strong, Of surviving things that should have taken my life long. Some days, I fear my ribs will break, Crushed beneath the weight I've learned to undertake. But I yearn to make peace with every part of me, To lay flowers, offer incense, honey, and forgiveness freely. I want to honor each scar, each wound, each pain, And give them my blessing, letting them be, releasing the strain. I'm turning pages to new chapters in this season, Growing new wings, achieving, overcoming, and finding reason. I'm cleansing my soul, making space for what's divine, Exchanging the weights that held me back for a heart that's aligned.