A letter to me

Coralie, you keep chasing that high.

And you’ve already got it.

You don’t realise it sometimes, I know, but beauty is in the simple things.

Seeing white roses in a garden you pass, walking by;

seeing your friends smiling and knowing that’s where you belong;

seeing your crush;

thinking of the future, a happy, bright future, no matter what others say;

a sunny day;

a stormy, rainy one;

dancing in the rain because none of it matters and it doesn’t matter if others stare;

singing to songs you love;

whispering the words to others when you’re in public and don’t want others to hear you;



being yourself, truly.


Picturing your best friends, your brother,

how happy you once were and how much more you still could be.

So do the things you love, no matter what others think, because you know you don’t really care.

You’re Coralie freaking C**********.

Coralie Léa Claire C**********, and what else matters than the happiness you’ve felt?


You’re Coralie, and you don’t give a fuck no matter what.

When others stare, you look away and pretend they’re not there.

When you sing and dance and hum and others stare,

you just hope that you’ve made them smile inside, if only for a short second.

You want to shine, but you’re already a candle, if you think about it.

You light up others, though I know you scoff at the thought.

You’re yourself the best way you can be,

You do the best you can, just like anyone else

You hope it’s enough.


You write poetry, cry to piano, metal helps you accept all the darkness in you

(I know, I know, you think you’ve got a lot of darkness, but you’ve still got hope, and that’s the beauty of it).

White sundresses or black jackets, you feel at home in either

In all of it.


So remember this moment

23:13 on October 21st,

when you thought the world was good.

After two cigs, sitting on the patio, listening to piano with a candle next to you.

Remember this moment, because I know you won’t

(because you can never remember any of these moments,

I know it all drifts off you).

Remember now, typing away serenely on your phone,

one last poem for the night before your battery dies.


Before you fall sleep,

and wake up tomorrow to another school day,

to midterms and papers and homework and seeing your crush and seeing others and them looking and bus rides and

Everyday life.


Focus on happiness.

Forget the rest.

Love, Me

21 October



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