I write because I’m angry.
(And I hope you know it’s rare
that I spend my frail brain power
and the time I cannot spare
on something silly, like a poem,
but I see no other way
to channel all these fuming feelings
into what I want to say.)
If you think for a second
that you’re any less than smart,
that your looks are less than lovely,
or that your life plays a small part
in the grand scheme of existence
that we face each day with strife,
please let me try to verbalize
your impact in my life.
Just to know you is reason
for survival in this hell
that we call higher education
(that’s dramatic, but oh well).
I see your face, and instantly,
my happiness is found,
and my day gets 10 times better
just by having you around.
I mean, good grief, you always
blow my mind with what you do—
you just…emit amazingness
as if it’s nothing new.
You meet the world with knowledge,
with kindness, and with grace.
You find the strength to persevere
(and do it with a pretty face).
Sometimes I just get overwhelmed
by the darkness that I feel,
but every time I fall too deep,
you remind me of what’s real.
My friend, I do not befriend
the average or mundane.
I choose those who will change the world
(and who will keep me sane).
I choose those who bring joy and light
By being who they are.
And I chose you deliberately—
You made the cut by far.
So when you say self-loathing things
with a casual laugh or cough,
you hurt my heart from the inside
(and you kinda piss me off).
You make me want to hit you
In your lie-professing throat,
so, to avoid injury,
I’ve written you this note.
Please read it and remember
that you're freaking so much more
than the errors you imagine
or the dreams that hit the floor
or the little flaws you magnify
and use to self-define.
You are extremely wonderful,
and I’m so glad that you’re mine.