Look girl, you are a holy ocean into which boys willingly plunge. They are standing on your shore, dying to drown in you. Look girl, we can all tell you hold too many untouched continents to count. We have our flags ready, hoping that you will let one of us claim you. Here is the truth: You are not like the others. You ring in our ears, you tangle our vocal chords. We sing you in our sleep. You are not like the rest. You are a bruise, you are a stain. And when you leave, the memory of you long remains. Your laugh is louder, your heart a shouter, your skin a secret we hope to breathe. We speak you like a promise-true, not yet ruined, always slightly out-of-tune. But, like all good things, you are so easily cracked and broken. You contain so much of what we want to be that we threaten to drain you completely. So, I tell you this: Keep your hills green, your lakes full of fish, your sunsets unphotographed. We will do nothing but cover you in slobber. Keep your trees standing, your passion demanding, your heart shining like the moon. When we come by the shipload, turn us away. We will only mark you, then leave. And you deserve so much more than our footprints on you.
—  I Have Thrown You Into The Sky Because That Is The Only Place You’re Safe | Lora Mathis 
Close your eyes.
Take a deep breath.
Someday somebody
will love you
and it will make sense.
You will feel seen.
You will feel heard.
You will understand
because you will
finally feel understood.
And the “weird,” uncomfortable
parts of you that you tried
for years to hide
will flop out,
but they will not
run away.
They will say,
close your eyes.
Take a deep breath.
I see you.
I’m not going anywhere.
—  How Our Friendship Makes Me Feel | Lora Mathis
There are little Indian girls out there who look up to me, and I never want to belittle the honor of being an inspiration to them. But while I’m talking about why I’m so different, white male show runners get to talk about their art. I always get asked, ‘Where do you get your confidence?’ I think people are well meaning, but it’s pretty insulting. Because what it means to me is, ‘You, Mindy Kaling, have all the trappings of a very marginalized person. You’re not skinny, you’re not white, you’re a woman. Why on earth would you feel like you’re worth anything?’
—  Mindy Kaling perfectly summarizes everything that is wrong with Hollywood.
Nowadays,
all of my love poems
are for you.
Because phone calls and letters
so often fall short.
And hopping on a plane
isn’t an easy solution
to missing you suddenly
at 1 a.m.
Sometimes,
poetry
is the easiest way
to bring you here
beside me.
—  Galaxies | Lora Mathis 

Thanks for the love poem, Mindy. Here’s one for you. 
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