If you could take it all away,
Would you?
Every regret and hurtful thing?

I look at them some days,
Finding them disgusting in every way,
But if I wash them away,
Scrub the pain till it's raw and fades,
I find myself staring at an empty space.
A bitter thing to find,
That your suffering was by design.
Leaving no choice but to make a place,
Build some sturdy shelves
And embrace the pain.

It makes you whole,
Defining you in little lines
Of how you love or hate,
If you can lose or find peace in simple things.
I'd keep them all,
Every hurtful thing.
Fill my shelves
So someday I can count how many times I fell to my knees,
A library of my deceit.
Written in books I'll feel complete,
That my life was a challenge and not once did I give up on the journey.