But love.

Find peace little one. 

When the clamoring comes, put yourself in a hot bath and count to 10. 

A breathe for each count. A breath for each fear. A breath because you are still breathing. 

Then give love. Selfishly to yourself. 

Braid love into your long black hair and infuse it in the the argan oil you rub on your pain.

Crisscrossing your hair becomes a meditation. In attention and care and the softness that your soul craves. The care that quiet creature inside you needs. 

Curl up next to your fears under your yellow floral blanket and surrender. Put on your favorite T-shirt, the one that's nostalgic yet hopeful. An old favorite friend.

Surrender. Surrender to the resistance and the pain and the failures. And the soul crying craziness.

More connected. More alone. More bliss. More pain.

Destiny is not always graceful. Righteousness is not always perfect. 

But love. Just love. Love your fears and your worries. Love the clamoring, the pain. Love the crazy. And the pretty black braid in your hair and the wet spots left over from your hot love shower. 

And go to sleep. Because no matter what age you are, you'll always have those day when you just need to curl up like a baby and simply sleep off the melancholy. And when you close your eyes. Close them with love.