To every tear I’ve shed, as repentance and guilt, I say, one good thing which came out of this was how my eyes have opened, and though blurry, they view a somewhat clearer picture of how life works. And in knowing that I now lie one step closer to perceiving the world as it is, lies my strength.
To every second I’ve glanced back and blamed myself for everything, I say, it takes two hands to clap, and just a simple acceptance to let go of guilt. And that acceptance need not be with the fanfare of epiphany, it needs to be within, and true, and real glory lies in raw acceptance of the truth.
To every second I’ve spent laying awake in the night, thinking about words bled and invisible cuts made, I say, what you’re going through is fine because moving on isn’t forgetting. Moving on is personal, moving on is subjective, moving on is spiritual. And learning to move on along with protecting your memories from the flames of forgetfullness is an art many choose to ignore.
To every brick lined up to create the walls around my heart, I say, you’re strong. I’ve made sure not to leave space, even for a window, and have nurtured and tended the cracks like they are cracks forming in my skin, not in an imaginary castle I only cower behind to protect myself from the inevitable feelings.
To every smile I’ve forced myself to form, I say, you are the violin and my muscles are the artist and I play you the way I want myself to be seen. I say yes to reckless adventures and ignore the flow of rationality, because in spite of making mistakes, I’ve not forgotten to embrace my spirit and feed my instincts.
To every daring step I’ve taken forward, clinging to sheer mortal hope, I say, though small, you have in you the power to crush your soul or breathe life into it. And, surprisingly, the choice is all yours.
To every happy laugh now released, I say, now that you’re free, make sure you fly because the chains holding you down were only existant in your mind, and they’ve broken down now, now, now.
To every second I’ve spent in your arms, I say, thank you; because without you, how would I have known the beauty of a racing heart and the majesty of self-awareness and self-forgiveness?