At dawn, take a spoonful of truth
and place it upon your tongue.
Let it melt slowly,
like a confession you’ve carried too long.
Whisper to the waking light:
“I was not destroyed by love…
I simply wandered blind,
a foolish heart,
an *** stumbling through its own shadows.”
Let the words fall into your chest,
echoing softly between your ribs.
For seven mornings,
speak no elegies,
summon no ghosts of “why” or “where did they go?”
Leave the sorrow un-fed,
leave the past un-watered.
Instead, smile at your own missteps
and say with a humble grace:
*** I was
but wiser I rise.”
And when the seventh sun climbs the sky,
you’ll feel a loosening
a quiet lightness in the places that once ached,
a sharper clarity in the mind,
a dignity returning on gentle footsteps,
while your ego smolders like incense
from a lesson well learned.
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 11:20 PM UTC
At dawn, take a spoonful of truth
and place it upon your tongue.
Let it melt slowly,
like a confession you’ve carried too long.
Whisper to the waking light:
“I was not destroyed by love…
I simply wandered blind,
a foolish heart,
an *** stumbling through its own shadows.”
Let the words fall into your chest,
echoing softly between your ribs.
For seven mornings,
speak no elegies,
summon no ghosts of “why” or “where did they go?”
Leave the sorrow un-fed,
leave the past un-watered.
Instead, smile at your own missteps
and say with a humble grace:
*** I was
but wiser I rise.”
And when the seventh sun climbs the sky,
you’ll feel a loosening
a quiet lightness in the places that once ached,
a sharper clarity in the mind,
a dignity returning on gentle footsteps,
while your ego smolders like incense
from a lesson well learned.
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