We often carry things that weigh us down—old words, old hurts, old versions of ourselves that no longer fit. Deleting the past isn't about pretending it never happened; it is about finally unlocking the door and stepping out of the room where we've been held captive. It is an act of courage to say, "This happened, but it will not define what happens next." To clear the space is to make room for something new to grow.
Erasing Lines to Draw Anew
I reach my hand to where the memories reside,
In folders thick with sorrow, regret, and pride.
A digital shelf, or a corner of the mind,
Where stories I have outgrown are left behind.
I press the key, I cross the silent line,
To leave the heavy burden I called mine.
Not because the pain was never real,
But because my heart is tired of how it feels.
The file is gone, the shadow starts to fade,
Like dust that lifts from paths I long have strayed.
I open up a blank and brightening page,
Free from the chains of every darkened age.
The space is clear, the silence now is sweet,
A brand new ground to place my wandering feet.
For what I delete is not the life I knew,
But just the wall that stopped my spirit growing through.
