She was beautiful in the most fractured kind of way. A breathless mosaic masterpiece that held the purest beauty. The tattoos on her body were born from scars and her wings were made out of tears. Relentlessly, she held unto a dream and shed blood for it's conception. I pitied her and wished she would come to her senses.As she crouched down to look at the puddle I approached her. Obviously, this storm is just too strong for her to handle, she should just give in to it's stride.
"Not all battles are won this way, get out of the rain" I said to her. "Funny thing to be said by someone who left the battlefield, you don't even face your obstacles anymore.You walk around with an umbrella, too busy trying to protect yourself from the storm that you never defeat it.Yet, you pity me?" She then turned around with tears in her eyes and I saw for the first time that I had been talking to a ghost. You see, the person standing before me was my younger self.The person I was before I became what I hated.I was the storm she was facing. I finally understood that she was the best version of me, who was merely fighting my worst version. Some storms we can't hide from, some must be defeated from within. You either become the hero of your story or the villain that ruins it. You decide.
#rain #streets #storms
#youngerme #instapic #instapoet #wordporn #poetry #believeinyourself #heroofthisstory #myownenemy #dontgiveup