Gone are the days of spitting words

at each other like wildfires.

Sparks that caught too quickly

that even our tears could not quell the damage.

Look how our passionate fire turned toxic.

But you of all people should know

that even the oldest forests must burn down,

if only to make room for fresh growth.

Our controlled burn was inevitable.

How else to cleanse our love-soaked soil

turned hazardous.

So we back-burned

leveling our ground,

before distance could poison the

seeds of our once blossoming friendship.

We burned ourselves into silence,

Clearing the way for

sincere attempts at life after love.

Sometimes we must set ourselves alight

Just to begin anew.

And (re)growing we are,

even if our roots are no longer

intertwined.

 

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Photography: Lanaya @writing.for.the.calm