I watch them paint themselves in the dark, drab colors of their pain, walking silent hallways, refusing the subtle essence, and the whispers of their genomes, begging to regain strength.
They cycle faster and faster into their own demise. It’s no surprise how the flowers wilt as they walk by.
Dark energy is brick and stone. It weights the ankles, drowning the spirit, preventing it from returning home.
And the photons call out in desperation, for the body to pay attention, and clean the trauma from the veins.
It’s a journey taken into the abyss of the sad remains of memories they won’t let go, so they sigh, and they moan.
It’s hard to accept choice, when none was ever given, when the essence of the soul was driven out by blows and words, leaving wounds that fester and hurt.
The chains fall away, but the broken remain frozen in their own footsteps; unable to see the exit shining brightly in their face.
They embrace their gloom like a second skin, the one underneath, dying within the weeds.
When you discover your garden, and chip away the hardened shell encasing your hell; when you choose to see the light, to fight your way out, and remove yourself from the huddling masses who have become too passive to fight, you will see this universe with different eyes.
Gone will be the angst of yesteryears. Dry will be the eyes from too many tears. Released will be the rapid heart rate from self induced fear.
And the mind shatters open, with new desires and hoping.
So you stand at the crossroads, my loves, and you choose the path to release the wrath; the one with all the colors and golden cobbles, for when you reach the end, that’s when you begin again.
New life. Renewed passions, formed from the ashes where you burned the memories.
Create a diamond from the coal, and re-ignite your soul.
You aren’t a victim anymore. You are free to be. Embrace yourself with fullness. Dismiss the fogginess. Rebuke the self deprecation, and replace it with appreciation, gratitude and strength.
Live this life YOUR way with self care and excitement for new days.
Start your healing journey with “Becoming Gratitude,” a simple journal that will ignite your senses. Remember, you have to do the work. This journal is intended to help you begin slowly.
2 thoughts on “When the Photons Call”
excellent Venny! Love it! ❤
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Thank you, Carol!