Friday, May 24, 2013

beneath it all

Bismillah.

The thing about being strong is that, no one, is ever gonna ask you, if you're okay.
You're so strong that you're allowed to go your own way.
You're so strong that people don't really bother if you live or die.
And you get so used to it.
You get so used to convincing yourself that things really are just fine.

When deep inside, you'd wished, you could risk it all, be vulnerable enough.
Risking it all however, should only happen if there's someone to catch you if you fall.

It is too painful otherwise.

At times, I wish I could be weak. Well, there're a few souls whom I allow myself to be weak with, cause they won't harm me. And circumstances taught me that, it is perhaps better that way.

It hurts a little when people come for petty things, as if it were a matter of life and death, (but who am I to judge, what is of grave importance to each and everyone of us) that maybe, I don't want to share my part of the story because somehow, it might be petty things to people with much bigger problems.

I longed a place called home. Where I could be comfortable and honest.
I really do.

Nora

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