… of whirlwinds from my past, it was me — it was me howling like thunders and wishing for the night to hush me to sleep amidst the shivering coldness.

In that body I was trapped with thorns coming out of an ash green, swaying like I’ve never been this hurt before. People would choose to pick me in the latter, leaving me nothing but withered lies after getting used. It was me — in that small voice echoing from the field of lilacs where I was alone. I kept running and running until my petals fall out. I kept loving and loving until I couldn’t recognize love from hesitations all along. I kept moving and moving just to hide away the thorns that pained me.

I kept doing everything we love.

But this time, I’ll stay. I’ll just stay here until someone brave enough keeps me like how I kept my roses. I’ll just stay here until I could wilt no more and scatter to pieces.

I’ll just stay right here and continue counting petals until then.

Darling, I’ll just stay right here where you can never break me again.

– El

Trapped in a shady blue
Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash
fields of emotions self-love