Deerest Lettie, you're not busted. you're diving & shedding. whatever or whomever can't handle the pressure of your daily depth is gonna fall the fuck off because they had no business here in the first place. i know you're lonely. i know you're hungry. i know you're tired. i know you keep having to let go of things // people // relationships you never believed you could // never wanted to imagine a future without. i do. i know. for those it-shoulda-never-happened kind of loses, i want to say i'm sorry & i love you. even here, from the future, it doesn't make sense either. there has been no epiphany as to the why, & all that we can offer in these times is the smooth hand of time to wipe your tender, brown brow. i'm so sorry & i love you. these were not some elaborate test of your willingness & surrender, it was simply a heartbreak there was no way around. & the way you survived ever single one, that was something other worldly--i bow to you from here, the future, in complete humility because i still don't know where that comes from. i know you pray to me, future ancestor lettie, because i am the parts of you that have survived, but always remember that i came from you. it is you that brings us back from the dead again & again, heart burning like the star it is, fire enough to burn bridges never to be recrossed this life. the attributes you glow for me i glow for you. you are my survivor badass femmescientist witch whose heart i am so grateful i live inside. from here we read all the signs, roast all the veggies, write all the poems, pray with the ocean, carve out the softest rendition of home. you are a miracle, a femmeiracle, my femmeiracle. all my springtime warm body love, Lettie Comments are closed.
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