Let it hurt. Let it bleed. Let it heal. And let it go. - Nikita Gill

Softer memories once lived there.
Where there is now burning.
Where there is now blood.

That was where childhood held you.
Instead there is a forgetting.
Instead there is a fireflood.

You have never forgotten how home was more
than just a language you grew inside your mouth
before you said it in a way your tongue bled.

When it lived as a place
outside of your body and more
than just in your heart and head.

Where you once taught your children
how to speak and walk and sang them
lullabies till they fell asleep in their beds.

How it has become a legend,
just a holy story you pass from
praying hands to praying hands.

Where once you built hallowed walls
there is now simply scorched earth
and bloodied sands.

A memory of the scared land
that it once was before your whole world
was set completely to flames

How your heart breaks everyday
because home, home no longer remembers
how to say your name.

Home was your refuge, and I wish they would see.
because after cruelly taking it from you,
they call you refugee.

I will take [my daughter] to the library, and introduce her to every librarian because they are where Athena lives now.

When the day's mistakes are too much to bear, when everything feels like devastation beyond repair, remind yourself: how mystical it is that every day, the clocks reset to 00:00 the reason they say midnight is the witching hour, is because a new day rises from the ashes of the old, embers breathe new life to its fire, giving us a chance to mend, a chance to restore, all that is broken and what you thought was lost.