Love letter to myself

"Dear you,

 If I could write on your heart I would tell you it's beautiful. 

And I would cut down all the words that people keep planting that seem to only grow thorns

instead of daisies. 

And I would write KEEP GOING over and over around your heart

until my hand cramped up. 

And if I could write on the tissues of your brain

I would tell it to shut up.

And stop analyzing your every move like a suffocating parent.

We already have enough of those. 

If I could write on your hands I would write with permanent marker.

Because you need to forget they're empty and put a pen in them. 

And with invisible ink I would write STAY OPEN across your eyelids

 because there's never a moment in life that you should block out. 

If I could, I would write all over your body with the adjectives that define you perfectly.

 And never let you wash them off because you need to look in the mirror

 until you can recite them without messing up.

And with confidence in your eyes.

You need to believe it for yourself.

Darling you are beautiful. 

And you are stronger than they give you credit for. 

Sincerely,

 me"

You see, love is the cold side of your pillow and the warm side.

Love is the sand you get in your swimming suit after a day at the beach.

Love is the bird poop on your newly clean car. (and your clean shirt)

Love is the dating website you check every night.

Love is the photo booth strip taped to your wall.

Love is the inside of the microwave at work.

Love is four wheel drive in a blizzard.

Love is the package UPS just left on your porch

{think about it}

Love purposely knocks on your door when you aren't home.

And love calls while you're showering but never leaves a voice mail.

Love never texts back.

Love leaves you wishing to be noticed.

Love picks it's victims from a hat.

And love pretends not to see you when you're in the grocery store check out line.

Love doesn't make eye contact in the hall ways,

Love sits in hospitals,

Along side all the people in the waiting room,
because all the people there have broken hearts, crushed hearts,
 hearts that have to be held close to their chest to keep from falling out.

But sometimes,

 sometimes love walks into the poetry section at

 Barnes and Nobel

 at the same time as you.

And even though love has the ugliest laugh, love never stops laughing at your jokes.

And love writes draft after draft of letters to you 
but can never muster up the courage to give them to you.

Love terrifies us with its secrets.
But love pulls us into its arms with its warm promises.
Giving us just enough to make it through the day.





Maybe this is just a high school kid trying to figure out love.
But maybe this is love itself.
Trying to open your eyes to the truth.