In The Aftermath Poem by Amy Sutton

Do not forget
That there is as much blame
To be lain at your feet
As there is at theirs
For how you treated yourselves
And each other.

And do not forget
That blame is a sticky, useless thing,
That satisfies no-one,
And sucks at your ankles,
Slowing you down.

Do not forget
That when you met
You were both magicians
Desperately seeking an excuse
To be ordinary;
That your magic has simply drifted to sleep
In the lullaby of your embraces,
And is not lost
Or stolen.

Do not forget
That no one can hurt your soul
Unless you let them,
And sometimes you must let them
Because the cost is not to care
And not to feel
And not to love
And not to live.

Do not forget
That new life is born
In the pangs of childbirth;
The soil of your pain
Is as fertile as the soil of your joy;
And there are roots
That will gladly drink your salt tears,
And blossom in the new heartlands
Cleared by the forest fires of your grief.