sheridan you’re
the first other person I’ve ever
wrote a poem
to.

I’ve written about just
about
everyone, lovingly but usually
in a weird passive regret.
but never sent the letter, just
stewed alone, that’s me:

a stew.

stewing.



and I’m writing a poem to you because I
can’t find a better way

       well of course my immediate response is to
       post
       (on your notes):

       “******* it girl you are going to be So… OKAY.”


but you know you won’t believe it.
I
know I didn’t when I was you and
so maybe I
(maybe I)
thought a poem might grasp at trying to say:


I don’t know much and most people I get wrong,
and I’ve ****** up and (for some reason) **** up still,
but ******* it girl I’ve seen every Kind of ****** Up and
you’re jumping every hurdle, blowing past
each road bump with
flying colors I
don’t know how you do it but I— *******…

       if you could have seen me in writers craft
       spilling to mr. spree the way I
       weekly carved a heart into the
       skin on my chest just…

       to grasp at something permanent.

(just to feel
a little bit different).



and I know you hurt in your own way and you
gotta, please—
and if you don’t try (and at least pretend) to **** your
self
at least twice before graduating then you

probably aren’t graduating yet.



but I’ve seen Every Kind of ****** Up and kid you’re
none of it, and I’d bet ten thousand dollars
(you can hold me to it)
that in five years you’re going to be the

       the happiest
       wholeist
       solidist
       most amazing person most people will ever be lucky enough to know.


               they’re gonna say, “I need to get my life together”, and
               you’re gonna say, “and I want to be there with you for that.”


                       and you will love.
                       and you will be loved in love.

                       because you do your damnedest and that’s *******

                               lovable.



and not only are you going to be So very happy
(ten thousand $, promise)
but you’re going to make everyone around you happy…

               you’re going to be one of those rare rare creatures
               (people will be suspicious)

                       ..who are true sources of good in this world.



       and it’s going to be so entirely different than
       anything you can imagine now:

       you’re
       going to do things you’d never dream about and
       do drugs you can’t pronounce and hurt people because
       you tried to help and
       fall in love with a Loser or a Railroad or a
       Foreign Country and either way will get let down but
       get back up and keep on going because

       you
       (it seems like)
       try
               when you can
                       you do your best.


and yes it will lead to disappointment.
when you see
you’re not really like the rest.

       (most people hardly try at all…
               …and generally aren’t who you’d expect)




and I know it sounds extreme and I
want you to not believe me cuz—
who would.. but
like I said I’ve

       seen All Kinds of ****** Up and somehow, kid
       you’ve got it.
       you’ve got it just right.

               musta been an angel or something…
               (..or a very hard fight)



and I guess I wrote this to say that you’ve gotta do
what
you’ve gotta do.
and you’re gonna break hella hearts and a couple laws too.
but if you’re ever alone, and

wondering
“what am I even worth?”


I hope from this poem you can at least take away

       that at least someone thinks you’re
       doing great.


               and **** the ******* anyway.