Yes, you. Right there.
I have something to say.
I'm going to take your hand, and I'm going to tell you to breathe.
We will wade through pools of warm, soothing gold, you will drag your hands through threads of milky, breathy blue, and you will feel the life. The life that pumps in your veins, that pulls at your delicate, rose-red heartstrings. Look at you. Lucky you. Breathing, living, being. I have never seen one that looks quite like you, that smiles the way you do. Rare, unique.
I will give you the world. I will wrap you in warm blankets and soft songs, I will thread you crowns of buttercups and morning glory's, and you will bathe in the moonlight until your skin glows and your smile turns radiant.
I will love you until you realize that you are alive, more alive then you have ever been, you are here and you are breathing and being and you breathe this air. And no matter how much it can goddamn hurt, you're doing it. You are strong, your heart pumps like no other. How amazing is that? You're lucky enough to be here, in this galaxy, feeling the life all around you, sifting in and out of wonderful, glorious you. You unfurl like a flower, lifting your soft petals and raising your head to the golden-butter sun, every morning to soak in the uniqueness of this single, precious moment.
I will make you grow, grow until you drink the baby-blue of the never-ending sky, you drape your bare shoulders in the cottony white of the clouds like a blanket, and you will string the stars and the planets among your fingertips as your head skims the inky, velvet purple that surrounds us. I will make you sit in front of the sunset, the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen in your life, watching the golden, violet, rosy pink sunset seep together like paint on a canvas, and you fit there.
You fit like a puzzle-piece into this strange, oddly beautiful universe, you are the mist that clings to your arms in the dusty gray-blue moments of the early morning, you are the sleepy purple that clings to twisted, bare trees during dusk. You are the nostalgic, happy-sad, bittersweet memories, the ones you store away, until you smell that perfect smell, see that perfect sight, and you realize all of those past moments HAPPENED, and you are still here, growing and learning and becoming.
Run. Run faster then you've ever ran, and close your eyes, and feel that ache, that push, that triumphant feeling that will raise in your chest like tides on a beach. You are going somewhere, GETTING somewhere, always running. Gather these memories, hold them in your palm, breathe them in and feel them melt, warm and cold, sifting and clinging, alive in your hands.
This is your life. The universe is a part of you, and you are here. There is so much to see, to smell, to learn and taste and be. Yet there is also time to rest, time to sleep, time to daydream of beautiful things.
You are beautiful. You...you are the only you I've ever seen. You may feel small, trapped, desolate, alone--so many words, so little time. I know that. Trust me, I do. But someday you will be King, Queen, (and anything in between) of the universe, you will breathe without it hurting and live without it burning like hot, gray guilt and regret in your stomach. Push it away.
The people you love, appreciate them. The things you do, savor them. Your body is perfect, because it is yours, and I wouldn't change a thing.
There is more wonderfulness, and beauty, and purity, in this world then you could ever know. People live shallowly, they do not realize that the reason we live is purely just to live. We are here to see the things that have been put in front of us, and dig deeper, swim deeper, fly higher. The sky is not the limit, it is merely the beginning. Don't be afraid to take your time, or power through it, it doesn't matter. Don't hang onto times that worry you, things that stress you.
Hold onto the things you love, search for things you love. The little things that stress you are there for sure, but they are only there, and you do not have to hang onto them, I promise.
Think of all your dreams. They are real, they matter, just like you. Your memories are in the past, do not burden them on yourself, but hold them delicately and realize this:
You. Are. Alive.
And if you stay alive today, I swear with all of my heart, it will be worth it tomorrow.
Someone who's alive.