Bitterness waits for an invitation.
It’s always close —
easy to reach for, easy to justify.

It promises protection,
but slowly poisons what’s tender.
It hardens what still longs to feel.

Peace… peace is quieter.
It doesn’t shout.
It doesn’t demand.
It simply stands in the corner, patient —
waiting for you to turn toward it.

And turning isn’t easy.
Sometimes it feels like betrayal —
like letting go means it didn’t matter.
Like choosing peace means you weren’t hurt in the first place.

But peace doesn’t deny the pain.
It just refuses to let the pain decide who you’ll be.

It doesn’t ask you to forget.
It just asks you to breathe.

To soften.
To stay open.
To carry your story with gentleness, not armor.

And maybe today, that’s the only choice that matters —
not what happened,
not what could’ve been,
but what you carry forward from here.

Let it be peace.