Your Past is Written, Not Your Thread

Time may blur the paths we tread,

And leave old versions of us dead.

But carve this truth into your head;

Your past is written, not your thread.

We bloom in places cracked and dry,

With roots that stretch and still defy.

So, mark this mantra when you try,

You do not owe the world a why!

So, walk ahead, don't drag the chain.

What forged you once need not remain.

You're not the bruise, you're not the blame,

You're every spark that rose from flame.

We chase the light, we curse the dark,

We gather pieces, leave our mark.

The past whispers soft with dread,

Your past is written, not your thread.

You're more than every word they've said,

You've walked through fire, you've bled, you've shred.

But still, you rise like thunder overhead.

Your past is written, not your thread.

So let the echoes lose their hold.

You're not the story to be told.

You're the fight they thought was dead,

Your past is written, not your thread.