​Your mother kept you inside of her long enough for your heart to start beating,

It never gave up on you,
Neither did she.
You don’t really like the color red,
You can stop painting your skin in its shade.

I know that pain leaves too empirical a mark,
There are no scars to show for happiness,
So hold on to this.

You are more than your diagnosis,
Or all the people who are so brilliant at hurting you.

Once, you brought down your demon to his knees,
With a single glance.

You are blessed with an insatiable heart,
A beautiful mind,
With all its complicated psyche.

Once, a reserved angel told you that she has loved you,
With all the sincerity in the world.

We are all things to be disposed of at the very end,
But your best friends cried when they hugged you that last time.


Once, a gentle giant fought for you,
Supported you until you made your own path.

You were born a nomad,
Homeless and boundless,
Guided by stars of your own making.
People would weep if you chose to drown.


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