There's a certain calmness that settles inside the depths of your heart,
when you make peace with the scars and their creators.
Some become your most cherished story to ever tell,
Some never get the chance to be written,
Some are quite visible,
And some are beautifully hidden.
Some bring a certain hellfire,
That burns every bridge connecting them to your future,
Some bring a darkness that nearly dissipates your light,
Ripping at the seams of all your perfectly placed sutures.
It's the burnt bridges that I've always struggled with the most. It's watching them avoid emotional discomfort as they disconnect and ghost. A violent form of silent treatment,
A kind of emotional cruelty if you will,
Rendering you powerless,
Robbing you from opportunities to ask questions in order to process the kill.
To know what a person has done and to know who a person is,
Are both very different things.
This is always inside my heart.
But it's also a lesson that is never overlooked and always learned.
You never forget how hot the fire was and how badly it burned.
Somewhere in the process of healing,
I release and let go.
But the scars, the scars they leave behind,
They remind me I'm still alive and what it feels like to get caught in the undertow.
Reckless Heart By Candace D. Brooks
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