fire blossom

I’ve done terrible things to people in the past because those people did terrible things to me. I accept that I did terrible things. I was cruel.

But acceptance does not equate to justification.

Past pain should not blossom into fighting sparks. Does not justify, does not excuse stray punches and burns.

Still learning to fight fire with flowers, I’ll quell the flames in time. And maybe one day teach flowers to bloom even in flames, so that even the fire learns to be kind. Stops burning to warming.

I’ll be kind.

And bloom ever so beautifully.


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