Why try to erase them
these permanent marks
the ones which stay with you like
a lovesick dog
the ones You've etched
by day, by night
every hour, with every breath you take in
sweet or bitter or tasteless
onto the parchment of your life?
the ones that make you laugh
and cry
and toss and turn in slumber
and wish you hadn't known at all...
Why not leave them there;
leave them be upon your parchment
have your quill grow stronger
sturdier
more experienced in your hand
And glide higher
Faster
More care-free
over your etched mistakes
the ones that reside on your parchment,
now emotion-beaten
like a weather-beaten sailor
on new wings, new feathers
new joy
Every time
every time you read
your newly improved masterpiece?

 
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