The last thing I want to do is write fluffy words laced with fiction and call it poetry. I’d rather give you honesty, even when it hurts, especially when it hurts. When the words spill out from open wounds, when the pain is so much, I have to lie down and bleed. What you get from that is poetry. Sometimes I think that’s beautiful. The way we can turn the pain into something bigger, maybe something a little better for now. There are times when it’s not so beautiful. The process of reaching into the wounds, pulling out the words, and swirling them around until the paper can handle the weight of the way the pain is cruel sometimes. It’s not a pretty picture. It’s not easy to be so brutal with honesty, it’s not easy to be so transparent, it’s not easy to be so fragile. But it’s brave. I don’t mind saying it. So I’ll say it again: it’s brave. And it took me a long time to recognize that being vulnerable is a beautiful thing. Being soft and hard, yet graceful is a beautiful thing. And I’m not looking to hold any labels, I’m not carrying any titles. I’m not standing on a stage waiting for recognition or an award to validate if I’m doing this right. I’m doing me and no one can really judge something that isn’t theirs to judge. Opinions go right through me and comparisons don’t make me flinch. I want to rip apart the expectations, burn down the box that holds the mold of how they say it’s supposed to be. I want to take that perfect form, shred it with my teeth, swallow it down, spit it out. I want to smash the canvas, wipe it blank, paint it with words and pain and triumph and I want that to be enough. I want to tie the endings up with healing and wrap new beginnings with the color of my heart. I want to pour this pain into a box, open it up one day and see only words. I want that to be beautiful. I don’t need everything to make sense. It’s okay when it doesn’t. It’s beautiful when it doesn’t. I want to give part of my heart to you. I want you to walk with me on this journey. I want to see the words and colors of your pain when it’s filtered through the healing. I think that’s beautiful. I want to change the way you see at yourself. I hope your mirror is a work of art in progress, where every day is a new chance for you to recognize the colors of your heart. I want that to be enough, because it’s beautiful and you are so much. I want you to see it. I want to write the pain, let you feel it, and hope that leads you to the healing. I’ve been there and I only know I’m never going back. I’m only going forward from now on. You can come too. Word for word. Pain by pain. I want to spill it, let you feel it, and hope to god you heal in it. I hope we all do. I think you’re worth it. I think you are beautiful and brave. If I’m being honest, I think we all are. I know we all are. Mark my words. Meet me in the healing. The pain makes sense there and everything doesn’t hurt as much. See you soon.