It is a fire that can't be put out
you have to walk through it
to get to the other side.
Sometimes
the bridges collapse
and the smoke rolls thick and engulfing
whose histories erased in the carnage
love letters written on rice paper
their falling ashes drift in the wind
like dried petals from a dead rose.
There is no soft landing
but humility is found in the falling
the greatest strength in rising again
and knowing
getting burned is part of growth.
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