LOVE LETTER TO SELF
I have come to the stern understanding that I am more gifted than this society has allowed me to believe and because of this, I must push myself in directions I fear. I must advance myself with courage for the systematic confines of this world are strict, and if I am not quick and gallant, I will arrive at ideas foreign to my authentic truth that will cause me to self destruct. For there has always been poison in the food, they have fed us.
Beyond the influence of this world, is my own shadow following me, urging me in opposite directions. The darkest part of me has been deemed my enemy, it appears in my way, always, and has plans to turn me against myself so that no one has to kill me because I've been taught how to do so on my own. And so I write this letter, a statement of my love for you, that you might be whole and free.
To the prolific heart in me...
The parts of you that gives and gives, your worth isn't determined by the return of love after it has been given but by the measure of intent it was presented with. You love boldly because that is who you choose to be in this world, and that decision, although many times not easy, is who you are not based on anything other than you. This is why your heart is prolific, this is how the heart can be self-made.
To the player in me...
The part of you that lays and waits, preying and devouring hearts weaker than yours, eating fans for breakfast, and no longer hearing the compliments because they've all been heard before. To the part of you that believes love is a game, 'a misunderstanding between two fools, an abscess in a man's heart and a hole in his pocket.' To the voice that whispers in fear: "get them before they get you." To that frightened part; you will find healing as you forgive yourself for not being able to protect yourself from the abuse that causes you so much discomfort. For you are a raging mess made simple with love.
To the gentleman in me...
You no longer have to lend your value to people who can't afford you. Pouring yourself into others because it's the right thing to do isn't precisely the right thing for you to do for you. You were raised to be a gentleman not just for the benefits of others, but so you can be gentle with the man evolving within. Going forward you must be able to open the door for yourself, first.
To the soul ties in me...
The parts of you still tethered to that boy that broke your heart and still loves him with every piece of that broken heart. You will find that the shattering pain he caused was precisely what you need to experience for your heart to be caged no more. To the areas of you that are triggered by the scent of him, and every boy that looks like him, offering their affection like change out of their pockets. To the part of you that won't allow another love because it never wanted the former one to leave. To that part that won't let go. That faithful grip as if your life depends on holding this connection. Your healing lies in surrender. You hold on to him as you would want someone to hold on to you. However, no one will ever love us more than the God Life Presence Energy galloping through our veins. So you will only know love when you tie your passion to your own soul, in the way you have tied your passion to the soul of that boy. Loving him is only taxing because you haven't surrendered him back to that which loves him most.
To the potential in me...
To the everlasting grace bumping around on the inside of you. To the unknown splendor that is seen clearly and experienced deeply when you are aligned. It is the boundless idea of what you can be in this world that turns you on, it produces the 'butterfly riot' in your soul. It is that stuff that owns your next breath and every moment after that. You will learn to lean on this internal benevolence in trust and in gratitude.
To the hoe in me...
To the unbothered rebel in you voguing through orgasms at every urge. To the holy gall that negates the negative connotation associated with the idea that is at the center of said hoe. For we all have one inside, the part of us that finds its way to be free enough to experience and express its sexuality with who and how it wants casting shade at all other opinions but it's own. To the part of you that is true to your own sexual rhythm, speed, and vibration —taking back ownership of your sexuality like you had to do your mind and your name, from that which enslaved you. I celebrate you in your nude body and in your promiscuous erotic pursuits. You will learn so much about the beauty of yourself from your own orgasms.
To the trauma in me...
To the forceful blows to the spirit that have caused you to be head over heels. To the areas of you that have been bullied into silent damp corners, by punks from childhood playgrounds. To the fear that stains your blood and all your dreams that were kicked away by an ideology of unworthiness. Healing belongs to you, and as you learn to lean into that which triggers your trauma, you will understand how to transcend them with alchemy.
Forever yours,
Bridgeforth
