I outgrew pain; and though I once were in love with the same who left knife wounds as their last word, I have nothing to regret.
For I was not wrong to love, only to not draw a line of where the scale is balanced, rather than let it tilt to my peace been bled out on the floor.
To be left empty, when you pour everything and more, and think you’ll too be honored for some value of all the things you give and refrain. To be made as wrong, when your mistake is to trust those who take from arms of pure love… To allow corruption to detain hope, from been born.
To allow distractions continue destructive rethoric, because facing honesty is sometimes cemented in pain, and been alone in the shade, instead of your fair share of glory.
To speak out yet not be heard, because fear not only can turn creatures blind, but too in the ego of not wanting to ever be flawed, deaf and incoherent in what is openly accepted in the thoughts.
I regret nothing, not because I’ve received what I deserved, but because of the person I was all along, still today, against every unfavorable deed that knocked on my door, and forced the knob only to take, and leave chaos behind doors closed.
I’m free, because it’s not in the will of some man or woman where my hope is born, but from my heart that beats with purpose not matter the odds.
A blessed Easter.✨