Melt your soul down, till it 

Is as hot as an icicle.

Pour it softly, safely, over fields,

Flowers, friends, foes.

See how it sets.

See how it goes.

See how it helps you forget.

See how you’re no longer running to

Somewhere that doesn’t even exist.

I used to be like you, I used

To persist at harbouring my boat of

Bitterness on the docks of my own

Happiness.

You will learn to let the wax

Of your soul set, let it set

On the places to you have tried so hard to forget.

But don’t be sad if it cracks, 

Don’t be sad if the sunlight quietly 

Shimmers and glimmers the 

Wax to melt.

Once again.

For you shall have said

What will have had to be said;

And the tension

will crackle away,

until there

is none

of it

left.

- by Charlotte Owen, January 2012