Listen Girl, and listen to every word on this page. You're a bad bitch. If we were to find ourselves in a Battle Royale ( or Hunger Games, if you will ) scenario, at the result of the competition, you would stand tall and proud, blood dripping down your lips and arms ; They would be kissing and holding a trophy stained red high in the air. If we were to be children together in cartel Colombia, I would pay sweat and gold alike to be business partners with the most ruthless and successful woman that side of the little Atlantic. And if you were to be raised in a world of scrutiny and skepticism, as well as care and Christ, you'd be the fighter girl with fiery eyes and her guard always up that I know today. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for those formative parts of your life to remind you that you're the most compassionate and tender of all the angels in the clouds. I'm sorry you had to become rough on the outside, to dull the soft pink radiance of your skin. It isn't fair you were like the house you lived in: at the end of a long dead end road in the country, nowhere near me. I wish I could have at least gazed upon you as the summer morning sun wrapped its arms around your edges. It would have been pure relief to even have been there to check on you when the winter snow bore down on you with its unforgiving cold weight.
But I wasn't...but hey
Read this girl, and remember these words as long as you remember me. You're the most valuable treasure I've ever found.
And if you want, I'll do everything little thing I can to make sure every little thing is alright. I'll treasure you.
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