I see a piece of broken glass on the palm of my hand...! A piece...alas that’s all what’s left of that delicate glass...yet I still don’t dare to throw it away...!
To prevent it from falling...to stop it from slipping away...I close my palm snugly. I don’t ease my grasp for even a second...because I am afraid of it falling again...!
The tighter I hold onto it, the more it hurts...the more resolute and stubborn my grip becomes the more I feel the pain searing in...! I look down to notice the scars which have started delving in my innocent palm, and the blood which had started dripping down precipitately...as if its afraid of missing out on something...as if it just wants to get to the end...!
The pain becomes excruciating, and it forces me to relegate the broken piece from the base of my hand, which no longer looks like a palm...but resembles a destructed field, with lifeless and decomposed flowers budding inside it...!
As the evil piece slowly falls and strikes the ground, I witness it breaking into a million smaller pieces, I stare at the angry termination of the piece, and experience the wicked pain parting from me, unexpectedly I feel stronger then before as I break away from the tangled webs of sorrow...
I realize that all this time I had been holding onto the leftover piece perfunctorily, and even though I found no elation in it, but I still held onto it, because of the fear that had comfortably nestled inside me, and had secured its perpetual domination over my feeble mind!
now when I look back, I don’t see a wounded and scarred person...I see myself as a survivor from the dark shadows of my past, and feel my dismal turning to wisdom...which loudly says...that sometimes… the best way to hold on is...to let go!