(A Letter to myself when I become a mother)
Dear Me,

Let her make mistakes,
Even if you know what's going to happen,
let her experience it herself,
because it's the only way she'll learn.
Don't take it personally when she asks you to drop her off at the end of the block,
instead of the front door.
When she comes home drunk and you catch her sneaking out,
remember that you were once a teen and had some crazy nights.
Tell her to have fun, but not *too much fun.
When you find her sobbing on the bathroom floor because her heart has been broken,
tell her the story of how you met her father,
and one day she'll meet a guy who makes her fell the same way
her father make you feel.
Tell her how you were her once,
not that long ago,
and how she'll be telling her daughter the same,
in the years to come.

Have you ever lost yourself in a song?
i mean, really lose yourself in that moment?
you're closing your eyes,
laying on your floor with the lights off,
and that one note gets to you,
and you're crying for some reason,
and your breathing really fast and you can't control what's happening,
and you feel like running,
but you don't know where  
and you realize that everything is falling apart,
and all you want to do is ******* run,
not to somewhere, but away from everyone
and yourself,

Gay, Fat, *******,
were all labels on jars,
sitting on an untouched shelf,
waiting to be to be poured into a bowl
and be mixed together.