Burning the Past

Wandering about the forest

the sun beating down on my face.

The silence of the trees

speaks to me differently than

the city buildings I’ve become accustomed to.

Touching the bark, it pulls at my skin

like a child wanting to play.

I smile softly, wondering where the trees

are taking me.

The leaves crunch underneath my feet,

sounding like the voices

I had heard many years ago.

The breeze plays with my hair,

like a mother’s love

that I never got to experience.

I feel as if I’m walking for ages,

no destination in sight,

and no feelings of wanting to go back.

This was my destination.

This was my path to a greater purpose.

Through the trees I see

what it is that I’ve been seeking

unknowingly.

I step across the bridge

made of despair

and loneliness.

The broken wood

splintering out in every direction.

Memories flash back

of the times this very bridge

was perfect and stable.

Now it was a lost artifact

of myself.

There was no saving this damaged,

sad little piece of my past.

Lighting the match was the final part.

The releasing of what I was so desperately

holding onto.

I couldn’t do it anymore.

What is done, is done.

The past only holds me back,

and doesn’t allow for my wings

to spread

like they deserve to.

Dropping the match,

and watching it ignite this broken past,

gives me a sense of relief.

The flames reaching high into the sky,

as if to kiss the universe goodbye.

I smile.

Finally, I was free.