Dear sixteen year old me:
You run through exquisite
burning rays of sunshine,
Hair streaming,
Fingertips skimming wind that has been around the world
a thousand times.
You are so beautiful. You think you are not.
If only I could tell you how precious your existence is on earth.
If only you could see that you are not an outcast, misfit
or freak
but a marvel; a pearl among pebbles; a collection of cells that fused
at the perfect moment.
Because you deserve to know the truth.
You deserve to know why demons snap at your heels,
so full of this
scorching
vicious
desire to destroy you.
It's because
while they fester in their own dark jealousy
you continue to reach toward something else,
something brighter.
That simple fact infuriates them beyond words.
Dear sixteen year old me:
Rise above it.
Understand that you are here for a reason and
believe in that purpose with fierce conviction.
Know that some people will despise your pure heart
for demonstrating qualities they'll never have;
Stand proud against the tirade of resentment that
will arise when you allow your spirit to be so luminous
it blinds.
Keep being who you are in all your radiance and imperfection
and
this great loneliness won't last forever.
My dear sixteen year old me:
Be strong, be bold, be magnificent.

You are.