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leebothegood submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoGod still working
Leroy lbraggSo my place that changed my life forever is the airport, I met a lady online and we became friends, and we talked for at least 4 to 8 hours a day or until the phones would disconnect, and after sending letters and pictures ( she made me guess which one she was ( I was able to) we had it planned for August 8th, I was going to pick her up from the airport after all she was coming from South Dakota and I was in South Carolina, I had told my boss about her and her panicked saying BE CAREFUL ( I DIDN’T care there was something about this Amazing young lady and I was LOOKING FORWARD to finally meeting her) The day came and I was Early and she flew in to the Gsp airport and was 10 minutes early, I told her to get back on the plane.When we met , WOW, and Time stood still, That moment August 8th, my life changed FOREVER, we have been married for 20 years together for 22 and Still going Strong.Im thankful she didn’t get back on the plane (: she may not have gotten off) She wouldn’t fly back home, Cause this is Where our story starts.My wife, my best friend, it all started with love at the Gsp
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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jhustyn submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoTo the Pink Tree
JhustynHow do you stay there?
In a city that doesn’t exist anymore.
Drowned under bike lanes and condos
Do you know people struggle
to pinpoint my accent now
they ask “Where are you from?”
– New Orleans?
– One of the Carolina’s?
– Chicago?
I would joke and say “no, Atlantis”
Because my city was flooded
By faces who turn red in the winter
Reminding me of you,
A Cherry blossom,
That would bloom,
Every springDo you remember how it started?
For us, it was a knock on the door.
Answered by my father,
On the other side, A man
Who’s hair barely clung to his scalp
They had A conversation
That started with “good morning”
Included A “thank you”
A “you’re welcome”
An envelope,
A deed,
A polite smile
And ended with a closed door
My father turned And said
“we had to leave.”I thought of the homeless men
The ones who would blend
into the walls outside of gas stations.
And carried a chime of “hey, heys!”
As we walked in. It was common to see them
And ignored their asks of “something’s”
their voices sounded more like compliments
Saying “you’re doing better than me
And you have what I need”Is that what we looked like to them?
Sounded like to them?
our new white neighbors
The ones who forced us to leave
Were we now the Beggars saying
“we belong here”
“It’s our city”
And what would that make you?
A tree,
still standing
Still growing
under a no loitering sign
That was only meant for meYou stayed,
Roots dug in the dirt deep
To a city that would throw away people
Before flowers,
Uproot the blacks
Leave the treesIs that why we left?
So easily
Without a fight
Packed up our whole apartment
Our life and pride in boxes
And left empty
In the nightI grew up in a city
That built a country
That was stolen
And stolen again
And no one talks about itEven now,
when I say the name,
People tell me how much they love it there,
And it hurts to hear.
Makes my tongue swell in my mouth
Pressed against the roof of a house,
We don’t own.
Pushing my teeth like doors or windows,
Begging to be let out or in.
Clintching my jaw like locked keys
Holding in all the things I want to say
And swallowing them down
to the bottom of my throat
a basement
Now stored with questions
That I can only ask youDear Pink Tree,
Do you remember our city?
The taste of mambo sauce
dripping off chicken at grandmothers house?
Or the sound of the live band music
forcing you to beat your feet
against the concrete?
Or the sight of fishing boats that would dock
And sell their blue crab cheaply?Of course you don’t remember
You were one of the beautiful things they kept,
The rest of the city drowned
Under bike lanes and condos
Flooded in the sounds of
Smiling “Good mornings”
Instead of empty “hey heys!”
A city filled with grateful “thank you’s”
And happy “you’re welcomes”That welcomed a tree,
But not me.
I wish you luck with your new neighbors
Keep blooming for them every spring
So you won’t be uprooted in the endSincerely,
An old friendVoting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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stacylynne submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoDear Christiana Hospital's 6th Floor, Bed 3/Dear Occupant/Dear Amy
SibsWell, here we are.
If I were to have a calendar in front of me, I would mark this time as one of two most dreaded days.
I remember some things so vividly, while more important things have somehow slipped away. I can’t remember your voice. 19 years.
I still carry around my emotional baggage, which holds my guilt, my fears, and my sorrow. We had so many good times…bad times too, of course, but I remember really only the good times.
So many stories, secrets, hopes and dreams, dashed away so quickly. I should have acted. I should have made time to go to the doctor with you. I should have demanded you be seen. The promise I made to you in the hospital room, as I hovered near your ear and played with your hair is still one that I hold to; though it has started fights and maybe handicapped him a bit, I continue to protect your son.
Oh, Amy, when he sings, and he thinks no one is listening, it is reminiscent of you. Not recording your voice is such a regret, but who could have known things would go so bad, so quickly.
I remember stupid things about the actual day, like the weather. On the day of your passing, it was beautiful. While friends stood next to you saying goodbye and weeping, I went and sat alone by the window. The sky had not one cloud in it. Your arrival in heaven was inviting. The day of your service, however, was cold…so cold, and rainy and gray. It seemed to match the occasion perfectly.
I miss you. Those words aren’t nearly as strong as the emotion behind them. I’m stuck in grief. I think of you and cry almost every day. I still want to pick up the phone to share some movie you’d like, or a random, “Do you remember when…”. Is there a phone in heaven?
In that hospital room, I whispered my promises in your ear. Did you hear them?
I am so proud being your sister. I pledge to make you that proud of me. And heaven better ready when my time comes…I desperately await our reunion.
I love you, my sister,
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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mysticmaker submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoTo the Place That Became Sanctuary
Eternally Changed & BlessedDear Rehab,
When I met you, I wasn’t myself.
I came to you from the floor below,
still trembling —
from withdrawal, sleep-starved delusions,
or some bitter cocktail of both.
A fog so thick
I couldn’t tell the walls
from the weight pressing on my chest.You were sterile and white,
like the hollow shell of a second chance.
I hated you.
I feared you.
And yet —
something in me stayed.The first night, I tried to run.
My mind rebelled,
dragging my body with it,
until I landed alone
in a room meant for two.Blanket draped like a shawl.
I wrapped myself in whatever warmth I could find.
That blanket became my armor.My journal—my confessional.
Your little track—my ritual.
Forty-eight laps a day, chasing pieces of myself in circles.
Hoping they’d fit back together.I hardly spoke at first.
But group cracked me wide open.
Especially when someone new arrived —
loud with rage or quiet with sorrow.
I recognized them.
We all did.
And it broke me.
Then, slowly, it rebuilt me.I learned how to create again.
Beaded jewelry with trembling hands.
Scribbled thoughts like soft confessions.
Songs that clung to me like sunlight.
I wrote in my journal like it was scripture.
Your walls didn’t flinch
when I colored outside the lines.You never asked me to be perfect.
Only honest.
Only present.And in that presence,
I became someone new.When I left you,
I felt like a child again —
fragile, raw, but holding something rare:
hope.I didn’t want you.
I didn’t think I needed you.
But sometimes the most sacred places
are the ones we fight hardest to accept.And now, when the world grows quiet,
I still hear you —
not your silence,
but the voices of every soul I met within you.Their pain.
Their healing.
Their stories,
stitched into mine.If I ever return,
let it be with open hands —
to offer what I once came seeking.With Reverence,
(ProWritingAid Style Score 100%)
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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straudt submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoHome away from home
Samantha TraudtStars and Stripes Gymnastics Academy,
You gave me a home outside of home. Somewhere I could release my anger and frustrations through power and strength. You taught me discipline and how great the reward can be when you stick to something and commit. Through you, I learned how to listen to what my body is asking for while also pushing the limits of what I think I can do with it. Because of you, I pushed through pain, building resilience against things that hurt me. You taught me that my mind is more powerful than anything else and that the mind controls the body. I learned just how incredible and strong my body can be when I don’t let my mind get in the way. I found friends, laughter, memories, and a place to release my inner child and my inner fire. You gave me a place to be myself.
You also instilled an expectation of perfection in me that has been hard to break. You put me in a position to be judged for years, a feeling that bled through my body as it changed. A mindset that being perfect was always the goal, and while a part of that was true when I spent time with you, I carried it within me outside of you.
After leaving you, I spent years wondering if I was good enough. How can I be a perfect ten? Can I attain the perfection I trained for as an adolescent? How do I stop trying to be so perfect? I stretched, strengthened, conditioned, cried, flipped, fell, bent, broke, and quit while spending time with you. I could say that you shaped me into who I am today. You fed something within me, and I will always love and appreciate you for that, but you also broke me. I don’t blame you though, because it was a part of my journey. I know now that sometimes you break in order to come back stronger, and that is exactly what I did.
Thank you, Stars and Stripes Gymnastics Academy, for teaching me mind-body connection. I appreciate you showing me that there are no limits when fear is not around. You helped the version of me that is writing this letter recognize how important physical activity is and just how far a little discipline goes. Thank you for being a place where I could release and be free. Most importantly, thank you for sending me on a journey to true self-love and acceptance. Because of you, I can blend my dedication and drive with my recognition of rest and patience. I know that for me, the best outlet for releasing unacknowledged energy is through exercise. I know that there is no such thing as perfect, but that my love for my imperfections is exactly what makes me perfect. Saying goodbye was so hard because you helped shape me into the person I am today. You will always be a piece of me, and I love you for that.
Yours truly,
Sam
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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chloeyrudy submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoShop of Stories
Chloey RudyDear Shop of Stories,
I walk in and am hit with the strong scent of antiseptic and adrenaline. To me, though, it feels like a confessional.
I remember walking in scared that first time, not because of the pulsating needle, but I was scared of being seen. I wasn’t there to be rebellious or to ruin my body. I was there because I needed to remember something. Someone. Myself.
There weren’t many questions asked, I just got pointed to the chair and nodded like I understood. With a small buzz and a slow, careful, gentle hand, you gave me my sister’s handwriting, looped and familiar, across my right forearm. My first tattoo. A permanent reminder of her voice, even when she’s not around to say the words out loud, and we grew miles apart.
The second one came months later, in the form of my middle name, tucked beneath my collarbone. The comfort of the leather chair, the needle buzzing again, but this time I was excited. A name I used to hide, then later learned to reclaim. It was never about vanity, but something to express my newfound love of the favorite version of me. It wasn’t my name directly, but rather, images that told stories, and explained the love I had for three letters.
Then came the picture of Icarus. Not because I wanted to glorify his fall, but because I needed to honor his flight. Glorious wings spanning the back of my upper arm, reaching for something just out of frame, just off of my skin. A reminder that even if I crash, at least I tried.
The shop, the artist, everyone, they never judged the reasons I came back. Never treated the ink like trends, or believing I was stupid for wanting a certain image or specific words. I just kept getting handed the mirror and the ink, letting me rewrite the parts of me that once felt too fragile to hold.
Slowly, my arms got covered in stories, stitched in black permanence, in lines and curves, a visible roadmap of my life. Of surviving. Of growing and becoming me.
It didn’t just change how I looked. It made me remember who I was.
Sincerely,
The Girl Who Wears Her Life Story in InkVoting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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ruthliew submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 1 weeks agoPT21946 Jalan 7
RuthDear PT21946,
Your peach colored walls and flaked paint live in my memory. So does the slick tile and the bathroom pipe. Oh, that pipe that the workers sabotaged with rocks, because the company didn’t pay their migrant contract. I don’t mind, really, I’d do that same trick. I’d like to stick it to the man too.
The day your pipe back flowed and I couldn’t quite cope, I simply shut that bathroom door. My mother-in-law however, made of sterner stuff, took care of that. I’m still sorry.
I can hear the grating noise of the front door grille as if it was just now. It’s been 18 years, and that’s a long time.
I wish for a few things that are probably still in your cubby space. I’d really love my nosey face mug collection. If you know where my clarinet is located, send it. I’ll pay the international rate.
Remember the children’s giggles, and the Humphrey Bear tv show? Do you remember the piano tunes we shared to pass the day? Do you remember the shouting and shoving? You alone listened to me cry at night. You saw the broken furniture. Maybe it is time to forget.
I miss the sun streaming through your master bedroom window, the designer kitchen with the funny cabinets, my children’s shoes lined up by the door. I’m sorry we left in a rush; the children have grown and gone. They are doing fine, yes.
I hope the neighborhood is friendly. I hope whoever cares for you now does better.
Love,
RuthStyle score 100%
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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qwertylpm submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 2 weeks agoSetauket Harbor as a Non-Judgemental Benefactor
Maya Pena-LobelIn March,
It rests forgotten. Abandoned, neglected, alone. You
used to visit It, befriended It once, but You’d
always leave and forget. Left It asking for You
to return. But You were two on-and-off lovers, except You
didn’t even know Its name.In April,
You remember that You need to bend Your knees. It calls to You,
so this time You answer, walk to It. It listens as You
tell It Your woes. Anchor deployed.In May,
You almost forget once again, but You
return. The sun is now warm enough for You
and It to soak it up, so You and It
do so together. The Adirondack chairs have returned and You
begin to look for new life.In June,
You visit It many times. Shared salt water becomes Your
currency. It gives You wind when You
need Your thoughts blown away. You
embrace the dizzying nature of the place, with
maple leaves inducing a welcoming vertigo. You
let It speak to You when You can’t listen. You
feel It when It gives nothing for You to feel.In July,
It attracts Others, but You don’t want to share Your
friend, Your caretaker. It is the beams that hold up
a house on the hill; those wooden supports can only belong
to one home. You asked It to build them under You.
Banter and smiles for the Others, but You
wish they would drown.In August,
the sand burns Your toes and sun reddens Your
nose. Hot air begs Your lungs not to breathe.
Miniscule waves remind You that Your
ears still work. Minnows nibble on Your flesh and flies feast
on Your sweat. It’s what you need.In September,
You wonder if You can still float. You
can’t feel Your arms or legs, but It
is a beacon for limbless buoys and people alike.
Each grain of sand worth the same as a
fiddler crab, dead heron, browning stalk, or You.In October,
You visit It alone. No one else cares for Your
place. It’s Yours in rain and cold and warmth and light.
It’s Yours.In November,
a chill tries to keep You away from It, but no force can keep You
and It apart. You no longer go in Its waters, but You
sit cross legged in Its mud.In December,
cold air hurts Your lungs in the way that the heat used to. But You
still remember that You can’t live without each other, so You
Keep coming back. Ice lines the shore in a way
that no magic could produce. Fractals hold each granule of sand together.
Fractals hold You and It together.In January,
pink sunsets could be the only reason You
would come back, except the sky doesn’t know what It
means to You. Even gray days and lightless nights
provide no barrier between You and It.In February,
nothing happens. But You prepare Yourself to start anew with It.
Another cycle awaits, news months incoming. You
will walk on water in a few weeks. You will come to It
even when You don’t need it.In March,
I come back again. I have new eyes, new body, new perspective.
I know It will never be forgotten again. It gave and I took, and I
don’t need It anymore, but I want It.
And It will forever welcome Me back.Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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opwriter submitted a contest entry to
Write A Letter To A Place That Changed You 1 months, 2 weeks agoBienvenue à Paris!
Oswald PerezDear Unsealers,
Bienvenue à Paris!
October 8th, 2012
After a long night’s journey into daylight, we’ve arrived in Paris. It’s just my sister and I with no parents for the very first time.
It still feels surreal to climb the steps of the Blanche Metro station. Metropolitan above our heads in wrought iron, the Moulin Rouge on the other side of the street. We’ve made it to our home base in Montmartre.
The winding streets going uphill. Past the Cafe 2 du Moulins, and Amelie’s portrait inside. The pink exterior of the cabaret, Au Lapin Agile, and the bronze bust of the chanteuse, Dalida.
At the top of the hill, the sacred heart of Paris. Arriving at the front doors of the imposing Basillaca de Sacre Coeur.
Even on a gray evening, one could see Paris’s skyline as far as the eye could see.
It was not the fever dream that’s been the last few months we’re actually in the City of Lights.
This moment happened with a huge measure of serendipity. Back in May, I got a phone call from Time Out New York saying that I won a round trip flight for two to Paris on XL Airways France.
I couldn’t believe it. I enter their contests every week and don’t win them. Until now.
The reality of the situation only hit me days later, after receiving a congratulatory email from the airline. And even then, I didn’t want to believe it until my feet touched down at Aeroport Charles DeGaulle.
As the days went on, where didn’t we go?!
Versailles, climbing up the Arc de Triomphe the D’Orsay, the Louvre, La Tour Eiffel. Cruising along the River Seine.
There were not so great moments too.
An allergic reaction, excessive wine consumption, and a missed train to London caused problems.
But we made it through the situations to enjoy the trip.
Thirteen years, and one more trip to Paris later, I realize how much the city held my story.
By showing for better and worse, that I can be more than the cerebral palsy allows.
I will say it every time… J’adore Paris!
Voting starts July 26, 2025 12:00am
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jismar submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoPoetry, I Love & Value Thee
Jiselle MarquezSpoken word
I am heard
From paper to presence
Poetry has given me unlimited expression
I am free
Oh how I do love theeTo have no judgements
No expectations
Only speaking from my highest vibrations
I radiate my lungs
I embody every room in which I stand
Taking my audience on my journey with me
From ear to ear
Rather than hand to handTo have aced every essay
To have read books in the summer
Who knew my calling was to be a poet or an author
No one shows you this is a feasible path
Discouraging you
Saying it’s impractical, unattainable
Only because they’ve never dreamed
of being outside an office or a cubicle
I won’t be naive, I won’t falter
Because for me this dream is anything but impossibleI love the way poetry makes me feel more myself
Every artist can tell you
It’s not for love of money
Not for approval or acceptance
With every note sung, brush stroke, or word spoke
We are emanating our deepest passionsWe are the few unafraid to allow our hearts to shine through
To be vulnerable & bare
To conquer our fear of public speaking
Standing alone on this stage
Yet I don’t feel alone
Sharing my truth with others
Yet it’s safe
It feels like homeCliché to say
But I’m thankful, grateful & blessed
I have found my passion
I withhold love for myself through my writing
& Perhaps call me old fashioned
But there’s nothing more sentimental
Than receiving a hand-written letter
Instead of this new age typingIt’s true paper will always beat rock
Because when my pen hits the paper
I fancy the way the ink glides
The world makes sense again
Writing letter by letter
Mastering my scribe
Curating every sentence
Every stanza
Every story with prideMy thoughts no longer jumbled
I can now see so clearly
I feel weightless
I feel untouchable
It has been my superpower for the world to hear me
Some people want to leave behind money or a legacy
For me—
I will have left my voice, my storyOh poetry, I love & value thee
Thank you for being a safe place for meVoting is closed
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Jiselle,
I loved your letter to your gift of poetry! I also love that it is your highest vibration, as is authenticity! I also love to write handwritten letters, so if you want a penpal, something I have always wanted to do, I’d love to write to you! Enjoy your passion! -
Jiselle, this poem is absolutely gorgeous and definitely confirms your talent with words. I can relate to what you said about acing essays and reading books in the summer throughout childhood and adolescence. A love for reading and writing emerges when we are young and continues blossoming for our entire lives. Thank you for sharing your story!
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You definitely captured what it means to write and possessing the artistry to craft a bridge between writer and reader. It was very beautiful to see that you captured what it means to be a poet, it was like looking into a mirror. Thank you for sharing
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poeticaddiction_365 submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoPoetry Saved My Life
TracyCapturing the true essence of when
The love story began
I smile
Reminiscing on the rhymes
That made me laugh
Easy to create interesting patterns
Some so elementary
Yet so catchy
My words were my power
My emotions needed an outlet
My voice found a safe space
With each line
My love grew fonder
I felt more alive
Whenever I read my words
I was a bit surprised
A master in disguise
My pen was my secret weapon
The words I collectively gathered
Made me aware
That it wasn’t a mere coincidence
Once I started writing
I could never stop
Until I did for a brief period
When my mother passed away
I stumbled on a mental block
My passion had died
Until an angel came to rescue me
Reassuring me that I needed my own words
To revive me
My creativity had never left
I was lusting momentarily
But when my passion
Reminded me that the time was now
I knew that poetry was my true love
It definitely saved me!
Voting is closed
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Tracy – it’s interesting to me whenever I discover how someone I’ve never laid eyes on has the potential to connect by experience. I too had a writers block for five years after my mother passed in 1991. I am rejoicing with you that your passion brought you back. Awesome work 👏🏽 👌🏾
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Thank you Sandrea 🤗 my condolences to you and your family on your loss 🫂 Not many people can relate but when someone does it makes my heart smile ‘cause I always hope that my words resonate with at least one person every time I write ✍🏾📝
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Tracy, I am so glad that you have revived your passion for poetry after your mother’s death. Though we sometimes lose that spark when we are grieving, it is important for us to find our way back as it has the power to comfort us. I hope that you continue writing as you are an inspiration! Thank you for sharing.
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Thank you so much Emmy for your kind words they are much appreciated 🤗 I will continue writing in hopes that by sharing I am also inspiring and motivating others to share their stories and experiences too!
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Your pen will always be your secret weapon and I’m so happy to know that your voice found a safe place . Your poems are your story and I’m so honored to read your story. Very heartfelt 💜
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Thank you for acknowledging the magic of my pen 🤗 I truly appreciate you and your kind words! Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading; it was my pleasure to share glad this poem resonated with you 🫶🏾
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khush submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoOpen, Unclench, Hold
Khush AsifYou have always been here, haven’t you?
Soft, steady, waiting. Unnoticed but never absent.
You have known the weight of my body when I could not stand,
the nervous tug of sleeves over trembling fingers,
the hush of palms pressed against my chest,
as if you alone could keep my heart from breaking open.You have held so much.
Tearstained pillows, quiet apologies, the ghosts of things I should have let go.
You have traced the spines of books that felt safer than people,
curled around the warmth of a teacup on nights that felt too long.
You have built and unbuilt—art, letters, love—
each stroke, each press, a silent rebellion against the fear of being forgotten.And yet, I have not always been kind to you.
I have wrung you in worry, bitten you down to the bone,
clenched you into fists when all you wanted was to open.
I have blamed you for trembling,
when all you were trying to do was hold on.But you—oh, you.
You never left me.
Even when I abandoned myself,
you turned doorknobs, signed my name, reached for the light.
Even in stillness, you moved. Even in silence, you spoke.And here you are still,
writing these words,
building, reaching, proof that I have not stopped—
not really, not ever.So I promise:
I will be gentler with you.
I will unclench, I will open, I will trust.
I will let you rest when you need to and create when you are ready.You are not just my hands.
You are my history, my resilience,
the proof that I am still here.And that is enough. That has always been enough.
Voting is closed
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Khush, this is a beautiful letter about a part of our bodies that are integral to our being but, like you said, often go unnoticed. Our hands hold lovers, protect children, craft masterpieces, and so much more. Even when our minds won’t allow us to be present, our hands are there working through the motions. Thank you for sharing this piece and…read more
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willj submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoA Love Letter To Communication
William JosephMy Dearest Communication,
From the moment I entered the world, before I could even form a word, you were there. The cries of a newborn, in the touch of a mother’s hand, in the unspoken language of your eyes, you made your presence known. you are not just a tool, not just a method, we are nothing without you. You are the silent force that moves the world, the unseen thread that weaves humanity together.
I have loved you in ways, I cannot describe, yet everytime I try, I realize that even the attempt itself is an act of loving you. You are the reason I exist with purpose, the force that allowsme to takethoughts from the depths of my mind and place them into the hearts of others. You are not just a speech, not just words on a page, you are an action, emotion, existence itself.
Everything I do, everything anyone does, begins and ends with you. A handshake, a glance, a carefully crafted letter, all of it is your expression. Without you, silence is not peace; it is a void. Without you, progress is not possible. What is leadership without words? What is love without expression? What is existence if not the constant exchange of signals, gestures, and messages that define our very nature?
You are not bound by sound, nor by sight, nor by language. You live in the subtlety of a raised eyebrow, in the rhythm of music, inthe blinking lights of technology speaking to one another. Every wave to a friend, every story passed down through generations, every revolution that has ever begun with the words, “enough is enough”, all of it is you.
You are the unseen architect of civilization. Without you, there are no laws, no literature, no connection between minds.
Every invention that has ever changes the world, started with you. A scientist speakes to his ideas before he builds. A writer listens to his soul before he creates. A lover whispers before they embrace. Everything begins with you.
And that is why I love you. Not because you merely exist but because you are existence , itself. You are the greatest power we have ever known.
So, I dedicate my life to you. Not just as a speaker, a writer, a thinker, but as someone who understands that without you, I am nothing.
With All My Heart,
William Joseph
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William, communication truly is what makes the world go around. I love how you mentioned being a baby and communicating from the time you were born, even though words were unknown to you. So much of our communication comes is nonverbal, and really, I think we learn more from that than from other forms of communication. Thank you for sharing this…read more
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Emmy, your words truly resonate with me! It’s amazing how much of our communication happens beyond words—through gestures, expressions, and even silence. It’s a universal language that connects us from the moment we take our first breath. I love that my writing gave you something to reflect on, and I appreciate you taking the time to share your…read more
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maddiemarquard submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoHome Base
Maddie Marquard“Always be ready!”
My dad would yell from the stands
Crouch
Step, step
Hover
Clap!
The ball hits the leather
“Striiiike” yells the umpire
It’s like I could taste each out
Before the play was madeEvery few pitches I lick my first three fingers on my throwing hand
The dirt grazes my pores as if it was made for me
The perfect solution for a perfect grip, a perfect throw
I wasn’t afraid of germs in the field
It’s like calories around Christmas
They didn’t countThe batter shows bunt
“Up, up, up!” my coaches yell
I creep up
Putting the 14 bones in my face on the line
My mom winces
I run toward it
Slap!
Dead sprint like I’m being chased
I dive and slide head first
Stretched out for the catch
I pop up for the double play
The crowd goes wildI dreamed of days like this
I still do
Lying sick in a hospital bed
It’s all I wanted
Whether it was the season I was knocking on death’s door
Or the one I blew out my knee I couldn’t play all season
Until the last game of the season
The last of my careerShe threw the pitch off the plate
To protect me on that route I had sprinted so many times
“Ball” the umpire calls out
“Time” my coach says as he runs out
Makes a substitution
“Number 17 in for number 11 at third base”
The announcers’ voice booms
I slowly walk off the field
The crowd on their feet
Clapping me in
As if it was God waving me in
Saying, “I’ve got it from here”How can you not be romantic about baseball?
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I loved reading this. Thank you for sharing.
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Maddie, while I have never been a baseball player myself, I have always enjoyed the energy and tense nature of the game. Your letter to baseball is beautiful and you did, in fact, make the sport romantic! I can sense the dust, the heat, and the crack of the bat hitting the ball from your description. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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There’s just something about being on a baseball field! I loved reading this.
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janellecomstock3 submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoFree Will, Autonomy, & Authenticity
Janelle M. ComstockT’was a crisp and wintry eve, as I sat by the fireplace to craft this divine love letter to thee.
Thou may be INVISIBLE; thy trio be one of a kind.
Free Will; without you in this lifetime, we would never know the SUFFERING and ANGUISH of making a poor decision, nor the JOYOUS BLISS of changing our minds and crossing paths when making BETTER DECISIONS. You are open and welcoming; patient and permissive; universally accepting.
Autonomy; you are fiercely independent and strong in conviction… sometimes flawed and wavering, though confident in depiction of all that you are. What makes you special is your ability to change your state of mind; never feeling stuck, always knowing that change is the only constant, fearlessly transforming at any given moment. You have the gift of shapeshifting into your highest self.
Authenticity; YOU are UNIQUE and GENUINE, there is nothing quite like you. You are the HIGHEST VIBRATION, the secret ingredient to life. I cherish your honesty, integrity, and loving energy. Your beauty is blinding; a translucent, vibrant, colorful soul. You raise me up and connect me to the tree of life.
Free Will, Autonomy, & Authenticity; you transform my bleeding heart and create an energy of passion for life. You level me up to share these gifts with other beautiful souls. YOU ARE MIRACULOUSLY SELFLESS.
With Tender Love,
Janelle M. ComstockVoting is closed
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Janelle, I love the way you write to your free will, autonomy, and authenticity. Though these are, like you said, invisible, they give us the opportunity to live life in the way that we choose. We only have to be true to ourselves. You are right—it is the secret ingredient to life. Thank you for sharing this piece!
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Thank you! This comment makes my day!
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ttsemaj submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoGreatest love affair
Christina JamesMy dearest Music,
Your passion is so evident in your tone and beat. That swagger that brings me the heat. The confidence indicating that you run the show, and the way you encourage me to let go. The freedom and ease when I hear your voice. Your adaptability as you give me the choice. Your raspy slurs as your whisper my name, and your mischievousness as you make your claim. The hold you have when I yearn for more, and the way you caress me when I’m on the floor. You pull my chords and reassure release; You’re patient and fervent and refuse to cease.
See, we have history – you and I. It’s not always been easy, but you always choose me.
Remember I once lost myself in R&B; an important lesson came to be…. My bittersweet destiny. Occasionally, I think of thee.
That time I experienced old-school rap. So street, so hood – I just couldn’t adapt. It was a wrap as unhappiness was all I could see.
I’ve tampered with classical tunes, but the vibes were quickly ruined. Ruined the start before its start, and we quickly grew apart.
Soca had me playing with fire with its familiarity and feelings of home. I couldn’t hold on down to the wire. I was much better off alone.
I really favored smooth jazz. Lights down low, nice and slow. The natural mystic didn’t last. With illusions one never knows.
The thought of country grooves warms my soul. Ballads made from hearts of gold. Slow and methodical, but I needed more so I never quite opened that door.
My fave was when you brought steel pans and that fury I need from the band. Undeniable rhythm when I’m near, that calypso beat is what I crave to hear. It’s in my bones, in my soul, in my blood til I’m old.Your eclecticism is a combination of all that’s good. The drums, bass, violins & tunes. Piano, melodies, steelpan and moves. Complementary contrasts make the best tunes. As you grow and expand and you venture into infinity, I hope that you’ll continue to choose me.
Forever yours,
ChristinaVoting is closed
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Christina, I agree that music is a powerful love in our lives! No matter how we are feeling or what place we are in life, we can always find a song that speaks to our souls and helps us navigate throughout our journey. It is a truly amazing force! Thank you for sharing your experience!
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livingforever submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoEternal Acceptance
Mercy N.To my journal,
Thank you for taking me as I am. I write to you everyday, and there’s no theatrics with you. I feel guilty when I write “stronger” thoughts I have in my life, but only you know how strongly I felt them in the moment. It’s only through writing it down do those feelings leave my mind. You hold it all, with no complaints. It’s something I never thanked you for.
I got you in a Muji store at Times Square. I’d always been a fan of stationary and writing letters, so purchasing you wasn’t a question. I pondered how I would use your pages. I had a plethora of notebooks I had yet to finish, so I had to think about it for a while. I started therapy earlier in the year. Being the type A person I am, my solution for you was to hold my progress and homework. Past journals held my feelings too, but I strayed away from writing negative thoughts. I even taped together the pages that had unsavory emotions. Therapist lady suggested I lean into this, and give myself the freedom to write anything I wanted. Writing my “bad” feelings would not make them more real, but it would allow me to accept and process the world around me. It’s even better that those feelings aren’t taken out on anyone.
It’s been a while now, and more than half of your pages are filled. From my favorite things in my daily life, to pure spirals of anger. It’s simple to tell the distinction, from my uniform handwriting to the chicken scratch I was too angry to re-write. You’ve seen it all, and you are the only audience that has seen me as such. My goals and deepest fears are on the same page, among things no one else will know about me. But I don’t feel afraid of this vulnerability. You’ve given me a space to be myself, and to slowly let me come to conclusions I was afraid of saying. Like my former philosophy stood, acknowledging something painful would create something I didn’t want to confront. But I’ve learned something through my time with you.
The introspection of my life has always been sincere. The lowest existentialism I’ve felt did exist, and happened often. The joy of feeling seen by my loved ones was real. The pure moments of ecstasy I’ve had partying with friends was real. The bouts of rage and regret were extremely real. But acknowledging all of them didn’t cause them to exist. They were already there, I just didn’t allow myself to accept who I was as a whole. You allowed me to accept who I am, choosing which parts I wanted to grow. And appreciating the parts that always remained. I just didn’t know how to fully appreciate them. Thank you for guiding me through that lesson, I wouldn’t be the person I am now without having you by my side.
All my love,
MercyProWriting Aid Style Score: 86%
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Mercy, I have been wanting to get into journaling lately and your words here are motivating me to take the next step and get started. The thought of being able to get all my thoughts out without having to worry about judgement seems like it would be so freeing. You are right that our negative thoughts still exist even if we bottle them up, so I’m…read more
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Emmy, you’re beyond sweet for telling me this. We feel everything, so mind as well channel it into something you’re happy with. Have a good night/day where-ever you are 🙂
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gabbycenteno submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoDear Music
Gabriela CentenoI don’t think any thank you is enough for me to tell you how grateful I am that you exist. You’ve cradled me on the nights when I cried over a long-gone ex-boyfriend, fueled my anger and hatred when I went through a friend breakup, and made me feel as light as a feather on the days when I began to fall in love all over again, and never once have you left my side.
And every song I have in my library has its own special story.
I remember the day I really fell in love with you. It was summer 2007 and my family was blasting the radio. Z100, KTU, or something of the sort. What I do remember is Big Girls Don’t Cry by Fergie was at the top of the charts, and my little ears perked up in a way I never experienced before. I waited for that specific song over and over felt such a thrill whenever I heard it on the radio again, as if I struck gold. That was MY song. At least, one of the most important songs that would shape who I am today.
I remember my many phases and changes of life and somehow you always had something to offer me. Whether it was the thrilling smash of an electronic dance music beat in my middle school days, or a sensual bachata beat when I began to love and appreciate my Hispanic heritage a little more, you always had something. There was always something so special about you that I could never pinpoint, but there you were – just waiting to embrace my ears with a myriad of sounds that came together most beautifully.
The truth is, I don’t think I could ever go a day without you. I miss you when you’re gone. I’ve been through many different loves of my life, many different friends, schools, homes, and even feelings that I hate to confront. The one thing that has remained constant is your existence in my life. Even if my feelings and life circumstances are ever changing, you find a way to always be there and for that, I will always love you. No pun intended. I’m so happy there was a musical genius that figured out we could make you after putting a bunch of various sounds together and have it evoke the feelings you do. I don’t know if I could ever thank you enough.
I know one thing remains true, though: you are the one true love of my life. And I hope you know that I will always love you back.All my love,
GabbyVoting is closed
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Gabby, it is so crazy how a song has the ability to take us back in time. I actually have a memory of “Big Girls Don’t Cry” too! I was on my way to my FIRST day of work at my FIRST job as a teenager and I was petrified. That song came on the radio, and it helped me calm my nerves. Music is a truly amazing thing that we are so lucky to enjoy! Thank…read more
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romans828 submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoRain You Reign
Arianna HortonMy Dearest,
Paper to pen, the clock ticks. The deadline is coming, but I must write. I must confess my love,
my love for you.You see, time is of the essence. I cannot miss this special chance.
Truly, I say to you, I am fond of you.
How deep is my love? They ask.
Is it deeper than the ocean?
Surely, I will look away as my cheeks redden,
Then lift my eyes to heaven with joy.My love is deep, in that I pray for you.
I pray to see you,
I pray to hear your voice,
I pray for your coming,
I pray for your going.
I pray in gratitude for you.
Always, I pray for you—forever.
That’s how much I—oh yes, I say, I do—love you.Your voice, no matter the distance, I know it.
I hurry to you swiftly.
Ah yes! How you caught my eyes.
What a lovely sight.Some days I see you, other days I do not.
Yet, I do not miss you, because I love you.
I know those days will come again.I love you in every state—
Your toilsome, windful days,
And your graciously calm dances from the heavens above.I admire your assistance to others.
You provide a hand to that which needs,
You clean that which is dirty,
And you do this not for one, but for anyone.You are a delight.
You are misunderstood, but I understand.
Though you are cloudy and gloomy,
I see the beauty in you—
I see the rainbows, that blossoms after you.Oh, rain—yes, you who fall from the heavens—I love you.
Memories of you filter through my mind:
Movies and sandwiches,
Puzzle pieces and jazz hums in the background,
Dancing with you in the chilly, weathery day.I jump,
I shout,
I giggle,
I laugh, a snorty laugh.I run to the hill and say,
“My Love For You!”
Oh, how it never ends.Rain, you reign.
I will never forget you, not one day.
I pray to see you soon,
Even though I saw you yesterday!Forever yours,
A Lover of RainStyle Score: 82
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Arianna, I love rain too! I understand why most people prefer the sun and its warmth, but I love the refreshing nature of rain too. It is beautiful in the way it saturates the earth and cools the scorching heat. Though rain is gloomy, it is also relaxing and comforting. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
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gelnesaisquoi submitted a contest entry to
Write a love letter to something (not someone) that you love 3 months, 2 weeks agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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