Perhaps Forgiven But Not Forgotten


Words roll out so easily, but once released they can be cemented in the ether forever.

Perhaps forgiven, but not forgotten.

Each word a stinging slap. The kind that leaves a red, lingering welt across my soul; bruised by those tiny words you claim insignificant.

Your words don’t matter?

Because I hold them dear as tiny fragments of your heart and soul, now intermingled with mine. I will serve them back to you softly, wrapped in love and compassion rather than wound you with my own tiny daggers.

How do I know which words to trust?

Words matter.

If your words emblazoned with venom and anger are meaningless, what are the ones dripping and engorged with love and sweetness?

I know the depths of your roots and the heartiness of their stalk. I know that every landscape needs weeding from time to time to flourish.

Growth blooms from what once seemed impenetrable and barren, there is a softening.

Photo by Lukas Müller on Unsplash

For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom.

Sip a little more:

I Reinvented Myself With Words—From Broken To Good Enough

A Certain Type of Magic: A Connection Beyond Words

"Wild is owning. Owning your truth, your life, your labels, your strength. Wild is fierce strength, animal strength, the kind of strength that tumbles down on Mount Olympus, the kind of strength it takes to get up each morning and face the day." —Courtney Quinlan #WAKINGWILD Read more: @kayharr73 @ladypantzz @tanyamarkul @thugunicorn