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
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
Photography: Lanaya @writing.for.the.calm