I live and breathe no regrets,
Even for the actions for where I hesitate.
Even for the moments a conclusion seems so distant.
I accept no regrets as my actions and my thoughts define me,
For I can only learn by my wrong doings,
For I am only strong by moving past my mistakes.
I accept no regrets as my choices birthed my morality.
And in turn arose my consciousness and with them my identity.
For I am the embodiment of regret,
Not in the sense it consumes me,
On the contrary that I consume regret,
That I can only develop through this sickening sixth sense and awaken in a new light, battered yet learnt.
As damage envisions my strength.

The pain rots and sheds,
as it smoulders her bones
and burns her skin third degree.

Loss and jealousy enwrap
her scorched heart into ashes,
while lava flows off her tongue
as it promises vengeance.

She becomes a vortex of emotions
engulfing her own life,
dwelling in the
merry go round thoughts.

Until she picks up the pen
and tucks the rage and ache
within the 26 alphabets
stringing words,
to sentences to paragraphs.

Ashes and embers stain the paper
as they ebb, blot and flow,
crafting the cathartic relief
until the paper stains darker
than the shades of her mind.

The blues that would pour,
become the budding flowers
in her chest.

She remodifies
cobblestones into steppingstones,
amplifying her narrative.

She tosses the losses
into words
and crosses beyond the horizon.

A candle flame burns deep
inside her solar plexus
as she transmogrifies the shards into a mosaic;
the strings of the web she was entangled in
weaved into embroidery to embellish her soul.

The cries and lies,
made her wise
as she built from the same sorrows
she was drowning in.

She put her ache on cadence
and turned up a brain wavelength.

She finally found her salvation
from abandonment
a dive deep and wide into
the depth of introspection
pulling from the cronies and nooks
the parts built and undiscovered.

She armed herself with
empathy fueled passion
as she has burnt, learnt
and learn to yearn the better
while she steers forward
with a transfigured mindset.

For the people who came,
now leave as poems.

No pain is greater than loss
For each breath becomes more painful
Each tear more bitter
And each voice more broken.
But only release can turn itself into divine
As we turn toward silent prayers
As we drop to our knees and join our hands
Whispering raw names.
Let us be heard, Us who have lost
For we are all fated
As if sharing the same body,
To lose what we hold most dear.
Let our tears dry, our breath quicken with life and want, let our chants resonate in the emptiness that surounds us
For eternity if not a life time.

Time is slipping.
moments are fading,
deadlines are approaching
and emotions are changing.

Everything is
modifying,
dimming,
evolving
and reforming.

It's a tightening feeling in the chest
that catches my breath.
But then I exhale
letting it loose.

Life is moving forward,
days are coming close,
anxiety is getting worse
and I don't feel prepared.

But I have today,
I have this moment,
I can make something of this time.
Little by little,
day by day,
it will be alright.