letters to another

i know your mother taught you the wrong definition of love- violet skin and shaking hands are not parts of passion. i know she taught you that hearts are meant to be bent, tattered and torn, that comfort only comes in dreams of death, that the fire within you must be extinguished. i know she told you that your lips are oceans never meant to part.

but-

i know you keep a mountain lion in your throat. i know you can roar. i know there's scarlet under your skin.

i know she taught you that more of you is forged from the devil than you know, but i also know this- you are more.