A lot of y’all have an issue with giving up things or people that no longer serve you. But you can’t conquer the things you won’t confront. At the end of the day you can’t break a sugar addiction if you keep buying candy for your candy bowl. Get rid of it. You deserve better. You deserve more. It’s time to start acting like it. With only 30 days left in the year what are you going to do with them? It’s time to man up and woman up and conquer the remaining part of the year. You are still breathing so you still have another chance to get it right. 💜💪🏿💪🏿💪🏿

Sentimientos muy hondos que en un huracán sobreviven... Ciénagas profundas y fondos donde la fuerza, " no sirve ".

Suspiro elocuente y desgarrador ... perforador de fronteras !! invisible maquinaria de reloj... que nos trae remotas las eras.

Toda la noche el cristal sangrando negra oscuridad, toda la masa de la ciudad... Hurtándome entera, " mi verdad ".

...Y una testa cabizbaja, un ideal hecho lamentos; y un cruce ebrio, de navajas... en el que morir mis tormentos.

Y cuando llegue a la nada, desnudaré el recio misterio; y en mis mares la blanca sal, será muy pura... y mi estado extenso.

Despacio parte el viejo tren... entre silbantes suspiros exhumados. Mi vida, se quedó en el andén !! junto a mis ayeres enterrados ".

Ousía Poética © Leandro Lojek

Darla Dimples

Self care.

Anllela Sagra

Where are we going? Wherever the wind takes us ...

siir-poesia ©

Dónde vamos ? - Donde nos lleve el viento ...

siir-poesia ©

cassiemarrufo

You are not bad for being unproductive. Your worth is not in what you accomplish.

If your goals are important to you they become personal. If you don’t take it personal you aren’t taking it serious. Get to it! There is no time to waste!

IG kristline_

@thesamurider

quick reminder that you're not responsible for the way someone reacts to you setting a boundary. you are only responsible for continuing to uphold that boundary. love u

Amouranth

The Poetry paints the loneliest corners of my childhood home where, love doesn't exist.

poetry-siir ©

La poesía pinta los rincones más solitarios de la casa de mi infancia donde, el amor no existe.

poetry-siir ©