New Years

Our souls-

are like paper.

Coated in lines of scrawling black ink.

Dark words.

Beautiful words.

Heartbreaking words.

The never ending scratches of ink,

against the parchment lining our bodies,

bleed together into shapes and pictures.

We find ourselves defined by them,

bound to them,

enraptured.

Until one day-

we decided to rip them off,

to melt away the persona which blossomed

into our beating hearts.

We tossed those words, 

into the thickening flames,

dressed all in white,

we watched them smoldered away.

When oozing gold,

began to gush

we turned ourselves

into something-

we fought

to become.

It wasn't a day that defined the blank parchment,

born from the ashes.

It was a choice,

A decision

to become something new.

Despite how deep the ink had stained us,

despite how old the scars had been

etched into our souls.

We chose,

to let it go,

and accept that-

who we were

is nothing more than who we used to be.

Because a decision,

can set you free.