To Matthew, From Rose

Matthew,

You do not know the person writing to you today, nor could you ever fathom her existence.

You also do not know how capable you are for revolutionary metamorphosis, you must learn;

you are so much more than the degrading terms your peers pin you as,

you are valid regardless of what the stranger in the mirror tells you,

the number on the scale does not weigh your worth as a human being,

and the seemingly endless nights spent drowning in dysphoria and denial will come to an end.

Your ignorance to these things will drive you to extreme emotions.

Feeling miles of away from yourself, you lose hope in your life and throw the empty remains of your happiness into a hole, six feet deep.

You bury yourself in repression,

self-loathing,

depression,

and unfit clothing.

You do not know is that the grave you have dug yourself will not act as your resting place, rather the soil of your rebirth.

With the darkness you forced yourself in, the light you will allow in will evolve the presumably worthless remnants into a rose;

jutting through the dirt,

blossoming,

sprouting vibrant red petals,

rooted in the ground, 

standing with pride and fortitude.

You will grow into the woman you have always dreamed yourself to be, the woman writing to you today.

You will come to know that our petals remain soft as silk,

and roots stayed planted firmly,

and never stopping from growing closer to the light.

 

With much love,

Rose

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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