I can breathe again,
I can breathe again.

My tapestry grows and matures, adding onto it the memories I've lived, the fragments of the people I've loved. It's okay to remember, it's okay for that to hurt sometimes, as long as you can move on eventually.

I used to be scared of this, apprehensive to inherit the traits of people from my past lives, afraid that expressing them might haunt me forever.

I'm not scared anymore. I think I'm ready to move on now.

I can finally breathe again.