What Made me Wild Flower: Part 1
Wild Flower


I am sooooo fucking angry!

That mother fucker. That piece of shit! I wish I was closer, I’d take a bat to his face! I am shaking, furious.

How dare he!

You did not deserve that at all! I am so sorry you went through such horror. The way you tell it, is so clear how strong you are, but God dammit! You should not have to be that kind of strong at that young age!

You are a beautiful young woman. You grew into that from a beautiful child, Wild Flower.

You have always been beautiful. Always.


I do not have the physical stuff like that in my history. The emotional stuff I am very familiar with and it breaks my heart to read anyone’s memories so similar to my own.

But the physical stuff.

HELL MOTHER FUCKING NO! I cannot with it!

I cannot. I cannot. I CAN NOT! It infuriates me to think of you still having to pick through all that garbage person gave you. It enrages me. I am so sorry.

I hope you find peace through writing this; I want you to know how proud I am that you have decided this is the right space for you to present it.

Also, if the song you were referring to is this:

we have that in common. It has become an anthem for me during some of my darker times.

I am here for you.

You deserved better.

I wish you had never gone through that, but I am very happy you are safe now.

You are now and have always been beautiful.

I wish I could go wherever that fuck is and beat him within an inch of his life.

You are so strong.

I wish he were dead.

Your words here will help someone — that much I know is certain.

I wish I could hug you.

You ARE “WILD FLOWER” and I’m honored to watch you grow.

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