it’s temporary.

 I found myself in tears this morning, heaving some of the toxic ashes I breathe in every now and then. they’re easier to bear now that there’s a breath of cool, fresh, minty wind that blows off the residues of my past. but when it’s still and quiet, the ashes choke me, just as they did, this morning.

some years ago, I dedicated my life to become a healer. wandering through the dark alleyways of existence with a candle in one hand and the other on my heart, I’d seek the tyrannical storms and stay till they ease, till the emergence of an enchanting cloud-form. these years were well-spent, well-lived, sweetly entwined with intentions so genuine. 

but it feels now that I cannot give but the truth.

my conversations are harsher now and they cut to the bone. my eyes pierce the mountainous walls built so high just to shield vulnerability away. I remain still, gentle and calm— but when I speak, it is the hurtful truth.

I accept that there are some things I cannot tolerate anymore. I accept that my cup is emptying and is longing for a compassionate recharge. I accept that I need to realign my life towards values I was born to honour. I accept that it is okay to pause my relentless drive to fix what’s out there, and tend to fixing what’s here.

I fall apart sometimes at the enormity of what’s waiting for me. it’s quite risky. I might lose everything I worked so hard for. I might get deeply hurt, too. I might find myself hitting rock bottom and not knowing what to do. still, the pain of it is temporary and the liberation is worth every risk. I didn’t know until now how much I love being free.

I’ve never been free, all my life. my soul is, but my body is tightly bound to mistakes I don’t want to keep holding on to. something in me wants to truly break free and run. I want to fly and never come back to what I’ve known, even if it means not recognising who I was.

I terribly need to fly. my heart has sprouted angel wings so enchantingly majestic. it cannot wait to truly love itself.

it’s the evening now and I sink in receiving the grace of the temporariness of my situation. faith in God’s light keeps my bubble aglow, alongside a sickening plea— please help me.

how I need His divine help. how I know I cannot do this on my own.