a letter to my younger self

May 7, 2019

A letter to my younger self

I know things aren’t right

I know you cry every night

Visions and flashbacks of that man between your thighs

I know you want to die

That knife won’t make it right

I know you don’t believe

I know you are on the streets

You don’t have to wonder why “mommy and daddy don’t love me”

You don’t have to compete

You are not weak.

You are everything the weeds and trees would like to be.

You are the rose that grew from concrete.

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