Violet, this is a poem about you. For once. And I know you’re sure I’ve written plenty, but in all honesty those were about me, and my vision of you. Though in all practicality that’s all this one is, too.

You’re irresistible, as I’m sure you know, though there’s a chance you don’t understand why. You look at yourself, and you wonder where we find the diamond in the rough that is your existence. As much as I’d love to clear that up for you, that wouldn’t be any fun, plus, this is a poem about you, so using my knowledge would be cheating. People love you, Violet. More than you understand. And you love them. But that’s when things take a turn for the worse, isn’t it?

"Don’t love someone like me, I only know how to leave."

You are an understanding person. You’ve walked upon eggshells for much of your life, suffered through the kind of hardships many don’t understand. You’ve questioned things that make up the very core of your existence. You experience these things and search for any kind of sympathy or empathy, and when you find it, you emulate it. You’ve received kindness from people who don’t understand, and it’s gifted you with the ability to deliver kindness to those whom you don’t understand.

"I do not condescend what I cannot comprehend"

You are a poet, a wordsmith, a fighter…Though I doubt you’d admit it. You’re an artist in every sense of the word, and you find true beauty in places where most people don’t bother to go past skin deep. You have a unique vision of the world, and you are fully capable of expressing it. You possess tools most only dream of, but you tend to refuse to believe in them.

"I am not a writer"
"But, you have a lot to say"

Listen, Violet, our story is a tragedy. I don’t see any other possible outcome. I don’t know…how self aware you are, though I’m scared to ask. We have much in common, however, we also have much to learn from each other, through whatever we become. I don’t plan on departing any time soon.

"I doubt it’s me you write about, yet I find myself in every word"