Let go of the past,
like autumn loosening its leaves—
no struggle, no sound,
just a quiet release.
You carried those moments
like stones in your hand,
each memory heavy,
each harder to stand.
But time is a river
that won’t turn around,
it whispers, keep moving,
not stay where you drowned.
What’s broken behind you
no longer can steer,
the weight that you’re feeling
doesn’t belong here.
So open your fingers,
let old echoes fade—
you’re not who you were
in the choices you made.
There’s light in the distance,
there’s breath in the now,
the past had its moment—
you don’t need it now.
