Maybe magic ends with me and it will never cross your path, but I want you to remember that survival is an art. The world is falsehood so you rely on your smarts.
To my inner child, I promise I am trying my best to heal from everything that hurt you. I promise I am trying to become the person you need me to be so we can both be whole.
Love yourself loudly, dangerously, everywhere people have been afraid to love you, afraid to ask the way to cherish you, afraid to hold you. Love yourself most in these places, because who can be a better teacher to others in how to love you than yourself.
Survival is ugly. Healing is messy. Self-love is complicated. It is your hardest days as much as your best days that help you grow. All of this is part of being human.
We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls and nitrogen in our brains. 93 percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have people names.
We do not abandon those who truly accept us for who we are, and if you could save all the people who accepted you completely, wouldn’t you go back to save them too?
