past mistakes

blood is seeping into my soul,

wounds wherefrom my past weeps

thy bruises and cracks,

scars and fractures.

Behold it,

behold the result of many a mistake,

behold the ruins that haunt my dreams

as I remain a stranger to this never ending ache.

Why does thou torment me so,

for these are wounds I cannot see and yet still feel in my bones.

It is ugliness — these tendrils of memory,

curling around my mind, piercing my heart

squeezing

ensnaring

binding

I am crushed by my own past,

chained by this inability to forget,

this inability to accept,

this inability to shed the weight of days long gone.

And yet, when comes the next day,

I am liberated in the light of a new dawn,

an unbound soul set free in a world stretching far and wide,

a world where freedom dwells and

henceforth,

I no longer grieve the ashes of what once was.

Let them be scattered, let the wind carry my pain,

let it bear the final remnants of my past mistakes.