the light

pack our bag

tears blurred my blaring vision, a messy sea of red and hurt and tears.

pulling out a rugged old duffle bag from my closet i shoved in everything i could get my hands on.

first, it was our photos together, cracked and tainted with your fake love.

next, the roses you gave me on our first date, the ones i absolutely hated but kept because i felt i might become sentimental one day.

then, it was the books and journals and pens and needless knick knacks, all poisoned with your toxic touch - one that used to be so sensitive and soft.

pulling the zipper shut, closing up a chapter of my life, i yanked the bag and pulled it close - feeling the weight of our relationship hold me down as i moved down our stairs and out the back door.

the next stop was the raging fire, the one you created in my heart when i found you with another, but also the one i created to burn up any traces of your touch.

and without another second wasted, any sentiment of the people we were was burning, freeing my mind and my soul. creating and rejuvenating, a newer better me.