You were meant to be fire.

Prefer to read, instead of listen? Here you go…
……….

This is your life. Choose Fire.

So, you signed up.

That means you get to
laugh until rivulets
run down your legs.
That means you get to
run towards certain death
with a wide open heart,
giggling.

It means you get to lose yourself
in eyes and arms and
scent. It means you get to
hurt so deeply you cave in
upon yourself. It means
you get to turn to ash with rage.

It means you get to feel unworthy
unloved, unclaimed.
It means you get to pile on
the illusions of others
until you forget your name
and wander around rooms
alone, until you shed them suddenly
one afternoon while splashing
around in a smooth, cold brook.

It means you get to weep
in Hawaii as the sun rises
over a volcano as an elder
sings, the most beautiful thing
you have ever seen.

It means you get to long
so ardently you burn yourself
up into pure light.

It means you get to draw
and paint and splatter
your experience into tiny dots,
minuscule, deliberate brush
strokes or wide swaths of
bright, messy hope.

It means that you will forget
that you signed up
for this.

It means you get
to live. And it is your choice
how you will do that.

Choose fire.

—-

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With love,


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