20:54


I know... I am not good enough.
I wish I was.
My best is not enough. I get that.
I’m sorry I am such a fucking horrible person.
I’m sorry I will never be pretty enough, skinny enough, good enough.
I’m sorry that I have scars I feel afraid to show because it only makes me feel worse.
I’m sorry that I lose myself too often and that I can not talk the way that I want to. That I talk too much. That I talk too little.
I’m sorry I feel like I can’t breathe most of the time and my brain can’t stay focused.
I’m sorry I have no energy to go and do things even if I want to.
I’m sorry that I can’t be smart enough and that I always feel dumb.
I’m sorry that sometimes I feel numb and that I lose myself in my head.
I’m nothing and I’m sorry about that.
All it takes is a beautiful fake smile to hide an injured soul and they will never notice how broken you really are.

Nobody wants broken things.


06:36




She has a certain presence about her. It’s hard to explain– you’ll usually see her alone in a crowd and it’ll makes you curious. Once you approach her though, she’ll give you a smile and you can tell she’s a little akward, kinda shy, but open and friendly as well. Something about the way she carries herself makes you feel comfortable to be yourself. Your first impression would probably make you think she’s this bubbly, carefree soul. She’s very good at adapting to her surroundings– but if you take another glance, you’ll notice something more.
It’s subtle, you won’t find it if you aren’t really looking. If you’re lucky, you might catch a glimpse of who she really is. Maybe in something she’ll say in passing or when you make eye contact with her. She’s been hurt many times, encountered hardships and a lot of unnecessary negativity in her life. She has a past, a chapter in her life she doesn’t speak about. She overcame all of it and wears a smile on her face. She will talk and joke and befriend you, but you’ll never really know who she is beneath the surface unless she chooses to show it.
More often than not, she won’t

Perspective of me from someone else’s POV

Το αρθρο αυτό είναι πνευματική ιδιοκτησία του blog “Άρωμα Έρωτα” . Απαγορεύεται η αντιγραφή, η δημοσίευση, η αναπαραγωγή ή η μετάδοση του, από οποιονδήποτε και με οποιοδήποτε μέσο χωρίς την αναγραφή της πηγής. Copyright Άρωμα Έρωτα® All rights reserved


07:54



Her face is a collection of memories; she is bliss and tragedy all rolled into one. with an ancient soul and young blood she belongs to nowhere and to no one. She is a walking contradiction, sunshine on a winter’s day, an assortment of puzzle pieces that don’t fit together. Her eyes have seen the darkest nights and brightest dawns. Her hands have touched the ends of the earth, sewing the globe together, painting the map with her fingerprints. She has fallen as deep as the bottom of the ocean; her lungs know what it’s like to drown. She has risen as high as the tallest mountain peak; her body knows what it’s like to fly. Her tongue has tasted blood and tears and heartache. Her lips have kissed happiness and sunshine and summertime. And how fitting it is that she feels both immense happiness and overwhelming sadness, all at the same time.

Το αρθρο αυτό είναι πνευματική ιδιοκτησία του blog “Άρωμα Έρωτα” . Απαγορεύεται η αντιγραφή, η δημοσίευση, η αναπαραγωγή ή η μετάδοση του, από οποιονδήποτε και με οποιοδήποτε μέσο χωρίς την αναγραφή της πηγής. Copyright Άρωμα Έρωτα® All rights reserved