Dear You, whoever you may be,
wherever you are, you made it. This moment,
your best friend, has waited its
whole life to embrace you.You made it.
The necktie dangles from the ceiling
but it has forgotten how to embrace you.
The razor blades, pieces of pencil
sharpener, and box cutters are all
disintegrating into brown orange rust
in a hellish black box under lock and key . . .
Dear You, this is you, you who has memorized
every etch and scratch on
the bathroom walls of a bar
through lenses blurred by tears;
who has your scars
that you say are from cats
or falling on fences, or bruises from
“bumping into table corners”,
and for you, who has seen the light
and then reluctantly
come back to darkness.
Some people say that character
is a photograph that develops in
darkness, but sometimes
the dark develops too much of our character
and we become over-saturated,
entering the light with smudges and scars.
Other times darkness comes
and the photo’s true colors don’t blossom
and turn into the art they should. But you --
you made it.
Today is another chapter of the legacy
that is your life, a hallelujah, an amen of sorts
People say, that no one cares how you look
more than you, but we don’t always
see the beauty on the outside
because when we look closely at a mirror,
we are searching for the wrong things
and the lines around our eyes and mouths
are nothing but memories of smiles
scrapbooked, cemented into the
skin on our faces. Regardless of all
your little flaws, you are you,
and one day someone will
stare into your eyes and kiss your lips
you are the most beautiful person
and truly believe that you --
to ever walk the Earth.
This is for when you’re feeling like shards
of glass rather than a stained glass window
Believe me when I tell you this --
your scars will heal, and your
bruises will fade like the sound
of your tears on the cold bathroom floor
You made it,
You made it.
and today, I will love you like no other
today the three years’ pain is over
today you will remember how to love yourself
today you again will hold the light you were
so ashamed of before
it was always you
you are someone’s favorite voice
someone’s favorite face to hold
and your arms are someone’s refuge. . .
You are a soldier, and it’s time to come home.
nothing would be the same,
If you -- yes, I mean you
didn’t walk the Earth where and when you did
the supernovas and nebulas would have no
beauty to compete with,
I wouldn’t be able to clap and jump
when you dance like a glaring sparkler against
the black sky but the pain is gone today, you made it!