Poking around in the ashes of our memories, we feel no regret.

As the flames burn higher, we cannot help but to recall some of the brokenness that is smoking away. It is relieving, seeing the flames that constantly feed on the liquid petrol that is our future consuming more and more of the travesty we had called our lives. We watch the fire consume our past, and then we carry on.

We have a new life now. Why would we want to remember that one?

The flames die down, and we turn our backs on them. The past stays behind us, warming our backs until we are so far gone that even the ashes in the air cannot hope to follow our course. We smile at the cold that rushes up to greet our faces, but we know now as we did then that this is only the beginning of what will eventually be consumed as well.

That is not the problem now, however. The problem now is moving on, moving forward. The trials we will come to face will be nothing more to our future selves than the burning past is to us now. We acknowledge this, and we continue our journey despite it.

Or perhaps, we continue the journey because of it.

The only thing we can be sure of now is what we must do, and that is turn our faces away from the flames and move back towards the cold. The lives we burn stay behind us: the pain, the hate, the lies, and also the pleasure, the love, the joy. It is never a one-sided situation. There will always be things that we will wish to hold onto: choices, phrases, sensations… words.

Words that hold power until we let them burn.

The words we write now cannot be unwritten.

They can only be forgotten.