Sonny Day. a Letter To My Friend Poem by Jessy Brethour

Baby,
Wildflower in the bruise of the world,
you are more than than your tired skin suggests.
The mirror can lie
but I wont…

You are kindness,
not the soft kind that lays down to be stepped on,
but the kind that bares its teeth when needed,
a lion in linen.

You shine light into our cloud covered days
and call it ordinary.
It isn't.

Your beauty is not a costume.
It is bone deep.
It is the way your voice makes silence nervous
the way your eyes carry fire,
burning your beautiful soul in our consciousness

You are not just strong,
you are forged.
Heat has tried you.
Pain has passed through you
like a blow from a sledge hammer...
but you're still here...
aren't you?
Breathing.
Burning.
Becoming.
You are intelligence with a pulse,
not made for quiet libraries, or hushed acceptance, but for wild questions and unapologetic truths.
You are the kind of smart that scares liars and saves friends like me,
from our own sinking ships.

Sonny,
don't forget...
your soul is a cathedral
that will remain intact even when the world around you shatters.

Life has tried to chew you up, spit you out and bury you.
But dirt never meant death to a seed.

And you,
you stubborn miracle,
are still blooming.
And if you ever forget your worth,
if the world goes dark and swallows your name—
call mine.
I will remind you.
I will always remind you