A Life In Words

I want my words to break you down. Expose the inside and show who you are. Tear away the fake and show you.

I want my words to build you up. Make you stronger and show the world who you are.

I want my words to tell you that you are enough, you are loved, you are cared for, you are appreciated, you are beautiful, you are needed, you are wanted.

I want my words to tell you that many people feel the way you do. Unwanted, not loved, forgotten, a terrible person, a little insignificant speck of life in this whole great world.

I want my words to help you. Help you through your day as you remember that unkind thing that tall kid at the park said. Help you as you replay an embarrassing moment, over and over and over again. Help you as you are overwhelmed and feel ready to cry. Help you when you feel ready to give up on the world because it feels as if the world has given up on you.

I want my words to inspire hope. To give you hope that one day you will be a better sister. A better daughter. A better friend. A better student. A better person. Do not lose hope.

I want my words to love you. Douse you in liquid love. Embrace you in long love. Hold you in family love. Remind you of friendship love.

I want my words to show you all the tiny kindnesses people do for you. The lady in the dark red lipstick holding the door for you. Your younger brother holding your hand. Your friend asking, “Are you okay?”.

I want my words to clue you into the everyday things you do for others that mean the world to them. The stories you listen to from the old man down the street. You setting the table without being asked for your mom. Helping your sister with a math problem she needs help with.

I want my words to give you wings. To allow you to fly away on the wings of freedom. For you to break free from that chain that you, yourself, keep chained to the ground, when you have the key right in your pocket. You just don’t see it.

I want my words to tell you, “You are amazing. Don’t leave.”