| Hope comes in many forms |

Time blinds us, marking our souls.

We want so badly to remain with those that a meant to be lessons. A season to teach us, opening our hearts.

Clinging to the past will do nothing for us. Except scar our hands for how desperately we try to hold on.

Let it. We must release it and move towards the future.

I tried myself. Pounding on that invisible barrier. Straining to get through to the past.

Bruising my hands, crying out as the blood stained my wrists. I wanted to go home..

But no one is there anymore. Those memories haunt me. Remnants that linger within.

I cannot go there. Only ghosts remain..

Where is home?