A Letter To You, From Love

A Letter To You, From Love

We often write love poems about others, but what if Love wrote its poem about you?
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How can you come to love the world around yourself without finding the true beauty within your own walls?

We all have negative voices in our heads. We constantly worry about what others think, but the only opinion that truly matters is your own.

You're not alone in doubting yourself. It’s okay to not feel like you’re good enough, smart enough, or anything else. Everyone around you feels the same in one way or another, they may be at a different stage of that mutual feeling than you. In some way, it means that internally, you desire to strive to become even greater than the amazing person you already are.

You have to remember that you’re just not there YET. We're all still growing in our ways. Like the saying goes, “even a million steps begins with one,” it doesn’t mean that you’re not allowed to tumble down a few times before you get back up. Some days may be harder than others, but that makes the better days even more worthwhile.

I helped raise awareness over domestic abuse by creating the “Leave Out Violence Everywhere,” or “LOVE” project through student council my junior year of high school. My project highlighted the silent damage within dating violence, promoted self-worth, and ultimately encouraged others to speak out against domestic abuse. We educated our surroundings about dating abuse by posting informational posters around school. We created a “Beauty Week” when attempting our first Sadie Hawkins dance to encourage young women to step outside their comfort zone so they can be more comfortably courageous. I created a video where I interviewed a number of students and recorded their reaction after telling them they were beautiful and broadcasted it in school to encourage others to spread love rather than to destroy it.

Take a look: The video was inspired by Chicago High School's social experiment.

One thing that may be difficult to come by would be our self-valuing, how to love ourselves in the midst of our negative, chaotic minds. With low self-esteem, it’s easy to fall prey to the cycle of devaluing ourselves and not having the motivation to do anything meaningful to boost our own sense of worth. But you have to remember that even some of the most beautiful flowers bloom in the winter through the harshest of conditions.

This is not your typical love poem. This is a compilation from parts of two slam poems written by others that I butchered and smashed together to create “A Letter From Love.” This is for the moments when you feel like you need a little reminder that you should love yourself.

We often write love poems to others, but what if Love wrote its poem about you?

Roses are Red

Violets are Blue

Here’s a letter from Love

For all the reasons why you should love you.



Original Pieces: “To the Girl Who Works at Starbucks” by Rudy Francisco and “When Love Arrives” by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye.

Dear You,

I came back just to look for You.



I imagine when God made you, he cussed for the first time.

He turned to an angel, gave him a high five, and said

‘God damn, I’m good.’



You’re that beautiful.



I spent the last five days

trying to figure out how I’m gonna introduce myself to you properly

and I think I finally figured it out.

It’s gonna be something like…



“hi”



That’s all I got so far.



I’m not much of a love poet, but If I was,

I’d write about how I see your face in every cloudy reflection,

in every window.

I swear, if I was a love poet,

I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful,

even on days when everything around you is ugly.

I’d write about your eyelashes,

and how they are like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink.

I’d write about how I melt in front of you like an ice sculpture every time I hear the vibration in your voice.



I swear, I’m not much of a love poet,

but if I was to wake up tomorrow morning

and decide that I really wanted to write about love,

my first poem would be about you.



But I think it’s a good start.



In fact, every time I try to write about love,

my hands cramp, just to show me how painful love can be.

Sometimes, my pencils break,

just to prove to me that every now and then,

love takes a little more work than you planned.



You were a broken sunset with a lazy sky on your shoulders.

If you let me be sunlight,

I promise that I will penetrate your darkness until

you speak in angel ways.

Scratch your future into my back,

so I can be everything that you live for.

I promise that I will die for you daily,

and then resurrect in your screams.

I promise that I will love you.



I promise, that I will love you

as if it’s the only thing that I’ve ever done correctly.



You see, I’ve been trying to find the right words.

And I’ve been trying to take the right steps,

for what seems to me,

to be thousands of years

but something always seems to go wrong, between us.

You left and I didn’t see you again until I died.

I came back as a caterpillar.

I turned into a butterfly.

I laid in the palm of your hands.

You brushed me away.

But I came back just to look for you.



I left notes in random places

hoping that you would stumble across them.

I would spit your name in the wind,

hoping somehow, maybe someway,

my voice would reach you,

but it didn’t,

and I died.

I died early.

I died young with breadcrumbs, in my hand,

just hoping that you would find me,

but you never did,

so they buried me.

When they buried me,

they put these coins over my eyes,

and I used them as bus fare, to get back to Earth,

just so I could look for you.



That’s why, sometimes,

when we hold hands, every so often,

I tend to hold on a little too tight,

and I’m sorry.



I just don’t want to lose you again.



I will tell you, "You are beautiful"

And mean it



Over and over again

When you first wake up —

When you've just been crying —

When you don't wanna hear it —

When you don't believe it —

When nobody else will tell you,

I still think

You are beautiful...



Yours Sincerely,

my poems never actually end because true love is endless

Cover Image Credit: Nicole Ma

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