Filters Off…

I miss you.

It hits me like waves and floods every part of me, pushing past my comfort zone. I wonder if it will stop soon enough. It comes and goes, it burns and floods, it angers and destroys.. But there it is… It comes when I least expect it, interrupting my perfect act of someone who’s perfectly moving on, erasing my smiles.. making me wish you were mine. And I go back to the start.

I wish I did not miss you. I wish the last two years were so easy to forget. But then  again, I don’t. Because I don’t want our story to be a sad, harsh yesterday. We loved, we laughed, we cried, we grew, we tried, we parted.. But I still love you like yesterday, even though I chose to go my separate way. And maybe that is what is holding me back to every memory of you, and why sometimes the simplest things brings back memories of you.  I walked away from someone I love, positive the wrong decision was to not do so.

I just wanted simple things. I just wanted simple love. I just wanted a relationship without all that control, such a sorrow to be in love and trapped into a prison of your own design… If only.

But sure, I miss you. I wish I did not, but I do. But I have grown strong enough to avoid the silly little fall-backs, and the tears that once came with such wave of missing you. I have grown strong enough to understand this is the best thing for ME. And, unless you ever truly change, it will forever be.

I miss you, then I remember this is what’s best, and stop.



Here I am, once again

The world tempts me with a smile.

Parted roads, blurred the lines,

Demanded that which was right.

So much sorrow I felt

as I let my world collide

into his arms.

Into his arms.

Lost myself

into his arms.

Learning to be me again

Won’t stop for a yesterday.

Into the shore I will part

with a smile burning my eyes

He Forgets Me

And he forgets me.

Just as we tend to forget our happiest days when the skies are grey, he forgets me. Just as a child forgets about his old games. Just like once forgets their first smile. He forgets without wanting to, compelled into the beauty of the world that is right in front of his eyes, held tight in his hands, kneeling in from of him. He forgets me with the waves of naked bodies to come. I am left feeling oh, so cold.

He simply forgets about me.

The words that were once said, the feelings we once felt, the love we almost knew. It is all now a blur in the past. I am nothing but a drop of water in his ocean of memories. I am a face with no name, or a name with no face. But I have been forgotten. I have been replaced. I have been erased.

Now my favorite song is nothing but a memory of Him.
And my favorite poetry is forbidden for me. Everything reminds me of him. Even the air seems to whisper his name in my ear as I try to move on.

He forgets me, and I still have to move on.


Photo taken from: Cypherx

You Deserve

You deserve more than words that rhyme. You deserve more than one of my smiles.
You deserve more than the image of a sun setting on an ocean’s horizon,
Its rays making the whole thing glow.

You deserve more than anything I could ever write You.You deserve so much.

You deserve my heart, my mind, my body, and last but not least, my soul.

Sorry I’m Not Sorry

You say you’re in pain. That your heart can’t take any more of this, that every line I type breaks you even more. Well, I’m sorry for giving you what you deserve. Tears formed in my eyes for many passing nights, and many nights my pillows witnessed as I sobbed and cried myself to sleep at night. They were were many the times my heart got broken, broken by you. And you say you’re in pain.. You say your heart aches and your soul wants nothing but to have me, once more I’m not sorry, my dear. I’m not sorry your heart is breaking after having lost a love like ours, due to your own disgrace and lack of commitment. I’m not sorry your eyes are puffy and tired of crying, and that you’re sobbing between every other word. I’m sorry I’m not sorry.

What Am I Supposed to Blog about Now?

What am I supposed to blog about now? What am i supposed to even write and compose poetry about?

I mean, I just got out of a relationship. The norm would be for me to write about heartache, about pain, about suffering and about how I cry myself to sleep at night every single night, and question my decision and my future without him. Well, I won’t, because I dont do any of those things. At all. Besides, I dont feel heartbroken anymore. I realized I felt more heartbroken before I left him, while I was going through everything he put me through for the last week, and my soul, heart, spirit, and mind where all shattered.

Nevertheless, for the time I was with him I completely lost myself. All my beliefs changed, all my friends were suddenly not even good enough to be kept around, and my life centered about our relationship. I had NO social life a t  a l l.  I stopped writing, I stopped reading, I stopped drawing, three of the things like I like to do the most. What I did do a lot, even though I drank less, was do drugs. I could “thank” (sarcastic) him for my first time poppin’ pills. This is something that maybe could be the topics for my next couple of posts. Finding myself all over again. Because I was a completely different person before I met him. Even though I changed some very good aspects about myself like respecting both relationships and myself more. I am also more aware of how i want people to perceive me. I stopped drinking as much, because I used to drink like, way more than I should with my friends. I dont feel like drinking anymore, or like doing drugs anymore. I used to smoke a lot of weed. Oh, and last but not least, I learned that I dont wanna have any friends just because, I want friends that are actually good quality friends and are worth it. If I cant find any, I prefer being alone.

Even though the list of things that changed about me is quite big and significant I feel the negative change could have a bigger impact on me. I lost myself, completely. I was all his, in every sense of the way. Yes, I had my own mind, my own opinion, my own feelings and thoughts. And no, I wasn’t always agreeing to what he said and it was not like we never fought. But he manipulated me into everything he wanted me to do and say. I would end up apologizing for something he had done in the first place. I would start arguing with him for my right to have friends, to have a social life, to live my life like a 19 year old and not like an old lady, and would end up apologizing for even thinking about it. This are only a few of the examples. It was messed up.

I feel this attitude I took with him, something that was so slow and gradual that I found out about it after it was too late, could hurt me in my future relationships and life in general.

I need to find the new Haronny I was before I met him. The Haro I was when I first started the relationship. Because I stared being strong, independent, and he was just my boyfriend. He wasn’t a priority over other things. I ended up being weak, totally dependent, having my life revolve our relationship…and friendless.

After reading this post, I don’t even know how I am able to stand on my own two feet right now and feel so good about myself. Well, that’s what self-love does. He treated me badly for almost two weeks, and my dignity comes before any relationship.


Daily Prompt: Me Time


Ummm.. Since I’m playing on breaking up with my boyfriend tonight I’d say my perfect Sunday would consist of waking up in my beach house. That’s the one place I like to go just to relax and be calm, (or to go party and happily life live) and in which I feel I can meditate about my life and what awaits me. Perfection, on this very moment, would be waking up and walking towards our deck, just in time to see the sun come up, reminding me that it will always, ALWAYS be bright, no matter how bad things may seem right now. We just need to change our perspective on things. We just need to understand better days are ahead. A perfect Sunday morning-wake-up would be having the combined sounds of roosters and waves wake me up, feeling me with that sort of peace only waves can fill me with. My perfect Sunday would consist of waking up to an empty beach, because the moments I enjoy the most are the ones in which I have complete privacy. It’d be Waking up in a place too far for anyone to just show up, and too remote for cell phones to really work. It would be to wake up in that little paradise I can gladly call home, so I can completely relax and get my head and heart together.. or as much as I possibly could. It would be to TRULY understand, on that Sunday, that sometimes your heart takes paths that are not best for you, that it’s better to be hurt and heart-broken than to be mistreated and fooled. It would be to start healing, slowly, but surely, until it does not hurt anymore to think of the last few days. Until I can understand. Until remembering doesn’t bring tears into my eyes as it just did. It would be to start the not-resenting him process, so I can truly be happy and move on without caring about him, even though -knowing me- I doubt that will be the case.

A perfect Sunday would be one in which my heart understood what my mind just realized, and the hurting ceased to exist.IMG-20120101-00133

…And after that Perfect Sunday, I would want to just stay there for a couple of more weeks, because a day is not enough to start healing about something that consumed every bit of your soul, for over a year.


Hello there, you wandering sheep. you lost soul who would entertain herself to avoid crying herself to sleep. Why are you worrying? Or not exactly worrying, but why are you nostalgic for something you know is better left behind. Not because someone else said so, or because each and every one of your confidents told you so, because to everyone else it was so obvious, but because deep down, deep inside yourself you knew it too. It was never real. She was always partly fake.

No matter how many years had passed since the day you girls decided to be best friends, or how many fights you had gone though and how many times you had made up, deep inside you knew that all those years did not really held as much importance as you wanted to give them. Perhaps you did so because you so badly craved for everyone to be wrong about her. Or maybe, just maybe, because you were too afraid to be alone… alone with yourself, alone with your broken mind, alone with your thoughts. In a point of your life in which you had no mental peace at all, and in which laughing seemed like the best and only escape, she was that, an escape that you foolishly confused with a friendship.

So, as hard as it is was to understand and accept this, some things are better left, simply left.

You’re happy.

You have peace now.

Real peace now.

Let go.  Enjoy.

Hoping peace continues to be with you,