Member-only story
Burnt Pages Left Behind
A prose poem
If I could write about one particular time of my life in its entirety, it would be the days that I left behind- the nights when the sky was young. The nights when I could feel the winds touch me, when I was with someone significant, who I didn’t want to leave behind. It was not one day, not two. But also not a lifetime of memories that I could carry with. But, significant, yes, it was!
Today feels different than other days, because today I didn’t stop to look back. Today, I stopped missing a few moments of joy that weren’t meant for me. It was perhaps just another thing that comes and goes, yet here I am, again, looking back.
Like said, all great things blossom during the start of the day. I would often be on the bed with the last night’s memories, and dreams, so sweet, that at times I realized not that I must wake up. These dreams also had pain and confusion of its kind. These would often trouble me, when awake, or when asleep. But I never failed to dream of the future I wanted to see.
A man can carve out his way out of almost anywhere. However, not every journey can be done alone. Now that I have burned the bridges, nothing bothers me anymore…
