Read this slowly.
There is no shame in mistakes, no shame in the past.
There is only a path to liberation – to shout
your learned truth from the rooftops
for all the nations to hear.
Every tongue will understand you, every wind will carry your words.
No tree will shade you from the terror of criticism,
but you shall not live, you shall not pass
one more day in this life, in fear.
How many commands must you hear
before you give yourself permission
to live your life in color?
Command yourself and allow yourself
to bathe in the freedom of self-acceptance.
Discipline and border your life with instruction
to create breathable screens of intimacy and sensuality.
Build your life, build your harmony.
Go, my friend.
Life is too short to waste wondering.
No one fits in, can’t you see?
There is no and has been no pre-set mold
to shape success and joy.
You must create your own.
With your own swollen fingers and chatty teeth.
And, you must break the strings of sameness
and shallow conversation.
Leave your fear on your pillow
and whisper to yourself tonight, “I am good. I am rare.”
A Letter to My Broken Friend