A letter to Nōōna

You used to be the definition of independence. 

A bohemian with nothing but respect for herself. 

I miss that girl. 

I miss the girl with stars in her eyes, who wasn't afraid to reach up and take them.

The girl who would never be treated like anything less than the most special secret, only to be shared with the most secure lips. 

The girl who only shared her lips with the promises she made to herself. 

I've never seen something more heartbreaking than when the whitest snow picks up the black from the hearts of those who use it. Those who walk over it. 

A woman should be treated like a lioness, respected like a tigress. 

"Don't lose yourself just because you found somebody" 

How many times can I say "you are worthy you are worthy you are worthy" 

Before you realize your place is not inside of someone else. 

Come back to yourself. 

Coffee cups inscribed with cookie cutter phrases and faces, things you pretend your love is. 

But your "love" has made you weak. 

It's time to bring life back to the branches you call arms. 

Too long couped up in the the noun "we" will leave your hands and knees cramped and bruised. 

It's time to accept the love you know you deserve the love that comes from yourself. 

You've been fooled once how long until the shame is on you? 

How long until a new faith entices your "other half" to the eastern wind? 

If he's hurt you let him go. 

It's time to come back home. 

To no one

You keep on running even when your feet are bleeding 

When the wind changes direction and blows sand in your eyes 

You wait for no one

Because you are a summer breeze 

You are the feeling right before your feet leave the high dive, right before the first tear rolls out of your eye 

You are the first to turn up the radio, 

roll down the window and stick your head out because you like to pretend you are only particles in the wind

But you are more than a molecule 

You are the universe 

The matter that holds the sun up and the earth on her axis radiates from your lungs  spills out of your mouth it rolls down your eyes. 

Love yourself.

And one day you will float on 

Flowing down a spiral staircase 

Pouring out across pages and places on a map

And the people you fall in love with and eventually leave

Will remember the time they caught the summer breeze 

Forever is only a day 

And I'll see you soon 

-J 

 

The amorphous generation

To me, the idea of shifting your shape to fit into the shadow of someone else is suicide. A genocide of the morals ideas and talent locked inside the soul. A massacre of potential. Changing yourself to impress your fellow human is a crime to our people and to our race. To take off your skin and put on a new face to pander to your hearts newest interest is heart stopping. So you there, you pick up your bones, stretch out your muscles cramped from crouching too long and put your chin two inches above parallel because you are special. The jokes that are only funny to you, are funny to you and that is all the approval you need. The face you make when you laugh too hard is your fingerprint on the universe. Never ever let someone make you feel small. You speak loud, and when you have an opinion make it clear, when you have an idea make it heard, and when you feel for something you make it felt. Never be enslaved by submissiveness. Chin up arms out, ready to take on the universe. 

-J

A poem.

If we're moving on, I pray when you wear the color yellow you think of me. When an idea completley outrageous and impossible crosses your mind, I hope you wonder if I am thinking the same thing. In boredom I hope my jokes still make you laugh. I hope that you miss me but not horribly. Enough that I am still there, still a part of you, because a part of your heart is a sacred place and a place I am proud to have called mine. So I hope that you miss me, because I, I feel homesick. But I've learned so much because you've taught me so much and the door to my house and to my heart is always open for you. When you are feeling low remember someone loves every inch of you even the worst of the worst parts. Remember the adventures and the times we sat on the couch because each meant something different. I pray that when you feel like you are not good enough you know someone knows that you are. Now numbers, they confuse but I know one thing about threes. From the holy trinity to the number you say brings you luck. Love doesn't happen only once these things repeat themselves if you let them, and I'll be here time and time and time again. So we are here, and if this is goodbye then goodbye but a green light on the shore is there to guide you back home. Life is a winding road and if I don't see you again on this one I'll be waiting for you on one called 1-27.

-J