We have such little scars of happiness. We very rarely learn from peace. We give ourselves such little time to indulge in the warmth of bliss.
Then there are those wounds, so deep they’ve touched layers of our bones. Those wounds that never really heal, wounds that bleed at even the slightest word. Those wounds that are a reminder of times you’ve felt crippled inside.
Even if the wounds were to disappear, you are still left with the memory of how painful it had been to obtain those scars. What you had to go through, what your heart, your mind body and soul had to endure to be left with those scars.
It damages some to a degree that they destroy any remains of the person they were before they had them scars. Pain becomes a part of their identity, as they carry it around with them everywhere they go. As though pain has given them wings of rage, they went from learning how to love; to learning how to kill. There are those, who carry their wounds as tokens of their past. Reluctant to let go. Those who swallow their tears, and fill their lungs so much so, sometimes they can’t breathe. The pain damaged them. The person they are now after the pain trusts less, cares less, is more selfish. It is so important to them not to get hurt again, so they pour their pain into the walls they build to divide them from loving again. That divide from the world will eventually poke a hole in their stomach, a stomach that will grow bigger and bigger into emptiness until they start to see the mercy their pain contains
Then there are those who water their pain with their tears, they allow their wounds to sings, so much so that, roses grow from the cracks of their heart. They are keen to recognise themselves as the sole purpose of their adversities. They too grow wings, of solitude. There are those who find freedom from the pain. They find love in themselves, they don’t have a choice, as they lick their own wounds, and mend their own hearts, they fall in love with themselve. There are those who hide their scars, but too use them as reminders of their survival. They survived the darkness that the pain bought, they recognise themselves as a star – the darkness became conscious of them. There are those who take the lessons they learnt through the pain as a mean to heal others. Those who see treasures in their pain.
Yet pain still changes them. It doesn’t matter what the outcome is, a person isn’t the same after they have suffered. A person has to go through a number of changes in their life, to strengthen their wisdom. It’s always down to that person, whether they want to be a slave to their pain, or step into the next chapters of their life happy to take growth with them.
If you know someone who has gone through any form of suffering, then be mindful of the pain that comes along with it. Nothing breaks a good soul and a kind heart further than being around people who don’t understand them.
In order to rise from its own ashes, a phoenix must burn first.