Living Proof

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Time and time again
life will prove to you how fragile and rare is Trust,
and how valuable when found.

It will prove to you
that many people will disappoint you
and hurt you;
and how important it is to hold on to those that don’t;
how important it is to hold on
to those who can taste your tears through the kisses,
and then kiss them away.

It will reveal to you
that there is nowhere to go to escape from heartache,
that it will hurt deeper and stronger each time;
even though, each time,
you thought you had mastered the pain.
But pain is not meant to be mastered
— it is meant to conquer ‘you’,
— it is meant to reveal you.

Life will manifest to you
that heartbreak is a lesson we must learn,
and that its only teachers are those we have loved.

It will show you
that sometimes
it takes a smack in the face with a boulder
to finally see things as they truly are;
and we realize we can lie to ourselves for only so long.

Life will prove to you
that sadness is only one of two wings;
and that we need both wings to fly.

That at the end,
and in the end,
there is only God and you…

…and that is sufficient.

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Ashes Into The Wind

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As I look back on the pages of my life,
and reminisce over the events that forged me into who I am today,
I am filled with sweet melancholy..
a bittersweetness that leaves me in a familiar yet distant place.

The tear-laced memories,
the distant sounds of laughter..
the warmth of gentle smiles..
all come together to form this compendium I now hold in my hands.

At times it feels so light..
and I wonder:
what have I done with my days?
these moments that are so fleeting..
what purpose have I fulfilled?
what lives have I touched..?

Other times I can barely hold it up
from the dense weight of its contents.
The lessons are what I try to carry with me;
though at times the weight seems daunting,
unbearable.

The pages of our lives don’t always turn so easily,
they sometimes prevent us from moving forward.

Sometimes
The past can be the most stubborn of barriers;
Pages like molten lava that solidify into obsidian
with its sharp edges and conchoidal fractures.

We try to climb over them,
under them,
through them…
tearing our flesh in the process
yet to no avail.

Like a cinder block tied to our feet
as we attempt to swim to shore;
it holds us stagnating;
and we know it is only a matter of time
before it pulls us down,
drowning into darkness.

And so we are left with no alternative —
but to burn those pages,
and blow the ashes into the wind.