#fromher

[fearless-22]

Atunci când ne ținem în brațe îmi dau seama că în brațele mele bate cea mai frumoasă inimă rănită.

[sunsetsandrains-moonandstars]

B U M B U M, [21.10.20 00:05]

Thoughts stay afloat, feet kept wandering like i was in a maze. Pushing me away in almost every day leads nowhere else, but for me to prove you more than having these piled up thoughts and wandering mind. I remain to keep going and fall for you deeper. I no longer care if it causes exhaustion, all I care about now is my pure intention.

Whisper in my ears words I don't like to hear. If it's from you I no longer care, if it's hate or love I want to stay. Staying will be my forever answer.

Shout at me, curse me and make me feel less of what I deserve. People might care but they're never like me. I don't ever want to be somebody now, never gonna be like people in your past nor people who you adore. I want to be known as for who I am when our eyes intertwined.

[salitangpuso]

I love you always and forever. 💙

[she-said-shorty]

[leonscourvosier]

Letters to Leon, Vol #3

These thoughts have been collected over time. Each is something I felt was important or useful to you. Sometimes, it feels like I am writing you a poem. Often, it feels disjointed or flighty but all of it is heartfelt and true. More than anything, I hope these words bring you comfort now as well as whenever you need it What does fragile mean? As insecurity, it means needing reassurance It means not feeling prepared for the inevitable changes It means feeling that the darkness can come whenever it wants but you can't know when or for how long It means waiting indefinitely It means having to work - always - to maintain your balance I do want you to know that I miss you. That I want to tell you that frequently, but I don't because of self-preservation and it feels likes torture. So, I hope that the letters, texts and books help you feel less uncertain. But, fragility is part of the process. I think it is always there. I came across a post of Facebook that I felt compelled to transcribe to you. Someday, I'll look up the name of the author to give credit...in the meantime, here it is: "Words can do incredible damage, but they can't hold a candle to silence. Often, the words that are withheld leave the greatest scars. It is that terrible silence that deals the hardest blow by those who claim to love us." Somewhere along the line you were denied something you needed to live; something destination-altering and hope-giving that you deserved. At some point on your path, someone should have encouraged you, but refrained. They should have defended you, but chose not to. They should have said something - instead of nothing. Someone should have told you that you are beautiful far beneath the surface, to that you didn't grow up believing that you were defined by your waistline or by a scale or by the affection of someone else who may have cared far too little for you. Someone should have told you that you are MORE than your worst mistake, so that you weren't still imprisoned there in that spot of momentary failure so long after it; still stuck, trying to undo something that could be undone and believing in made you less than. Someone should have told you that God was not angry with you so that your faith was allowed safe passage to grow and fearlessly move toward the one who made you and adores you without caveat or condition; the One who delights in you just as YOU are. Someone should have told you that it wasn't your fault; so that you were relieved of the wasteful, crushing burden of what you were never meant to carry. Someone should remind you that you are a once-in-history collection of atoms and color and sound. To never doubt, even for a second, your inherent worth and the beautiful mark you made in the places where your feet have landed and where your heart has settled to work. Someone should have told you that you are forgiven so that you didn't cling to a vicious grudge against yourself which pronounced you dirty and so you were not tried again and again for the same crime in the court of your own head. Someone should have told you your sadness is not a sickness so you could have allowed yourself to grieve fully; to feel and speak the depth and breadth of your pain, instead of burying it daily beneath a brittle façade of ok-ness and pretending you were not devastated. There is more to tell you, and more to write as well. I will write more. I hope this helps for now. Eternally yours, -Her

[leonscourvosier]

Letters to Leon, Vol. 2

Festival of St. John, Florence, Italy It's tricky to write to you on paper. No backspace. Actual handwriting and unexcused typos included. Also an investment of time and thought. I want you to have a letter from me, sent from Italy, reminding you that you are important to me. And also that there are so many things here that remind me of you. It's hard to know what to write. I can tell you that everywhere I look, I keep thinking that I wasn't to remember it exactly as I see it. Even though, moment to moment, each view changes. And, somehow, always for the better. It makes me wonder if I could make that happen anywhere I am. Can't I simply force myself to see the same beauty at home? Is familiarity just breeding contempt and blindness? I hope that writing this will help me change that. Help me remember the sound of the tractor, the rooster, the birds, the frog. The view of the pheasant, the bees, the incredible landscape. I think that know it is here - somewhere in the world - is helpful. That there is a place that smells this way and feels this way should be enough. It has been a restful vacation. Knowing that xxxx has everything handled is a big part of that. Being able to keep in touch with you and share what I am experiencing is also important. I want to figure out how to do this without causing damage. I would love to be the person who protects and cares for that little boy in your heart. I will find a way to do that. Because he is truly special and deserves to be loved, just exactly as he is. A child of the universe, full of love and wonder and gifts. I've written by moonlight, I've written by sunlight. I hope they are both felt here in these pages - for as long as you need them. Here it is, on paper. Please be careful with it and with me. All my love, -Her

[leonscourvosier]

If I Found a Wistful Unicorn

If I found a wistful unicorn and brought him to you, all forlorn... Would you pet him? If I took an empty midnight train across the country in the rain Would you meet me? If I picked a little flower up and put it in a paper cup... Would you smell it? If I found a secret place to go, with you the only one to know.... Would you be there? If my cricket coughed and the flu and needed warmth and comfort too... Would you hold him? If my rainbow were to turn all gray and wouldn't shine at all today... Would you paint it? If my birch tree were afraid at night and couldn't sleep without a light... Would you bring one? If my soul were feeling all alone and wasn't near a telephone... Would you write to it? If my clock developed nervous strain and needed help to 'tock' again... Would you fix it? If I ran backwards up a tree and called for you to follow me... Would you do it? If my turtle got a nervous tic and couldn't swim 'cause he was sick... Would you sit with him? If I said that I could dance for you as hard as that would be to do... Would you watch me? If my pet turnip turned on me and bit me fiercely on the knee... Would you bandage it? If my obelisk came tumbling down and fell in pieces on the ground... Would you pick it up? If my nightingale were a monotone and much too shy to sing alone... Would you hum with him? If my wart decided yesterday to be a dimple anyway... Would you notice? If all that I would want to do would be to sit and talk to you... Would you listen? If any of these things you'll do, I'll never have to say to you.... "Do you love me?" - Ann Ashford