I’m going to tell you to be silent, darling.
Strengthen your footfalls.
Dominate the halls.
But do not say a word—pick them out carefully.
Use them as weapons.


When you feel anger rise, clench your fists till you see the crescents on your palms.
Hold your chin up, and gaze back with a smile—and hold it long enough to break them, before they break you.
But when they hurt you even worse, and you can’t handle it—you tell them, and force them to acknowledge it.
Acknowledge it.
And hope that the tears don’t come, otherwise you’d have to wipe off that smile you worked so hard
To put on.


And I’m telling you this, darling, because beauty is found within your strength and your conviction.
You are a masterpiece—and this.
This is what control feels like.


To know when you can finally let go.