Tuesday, December 31

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,

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.


  1. I really like that poem, its really inspiring:) Im officially one of your followers, if you could check out my blog and maybe follow it in return, I'd be very grateful



  2. I loved your poem! is so beautiful and inspiring :)


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