Letter to a Friend - Frida Kahlo

"Leaving is not enough; 

you must

stay gone,

Train your heart

like a dog,

Change the locks,

even on the house he’s never

visited,

You lucky, lucky girl,

You have an apartment

just your size, 

a bathtub full of tea,

a heart the size of Arizona, 

but not nearly

so arid,

Don't wish away your cracked past, 

your crooked toes, 

your problems are papier mache puppets,

you made or bought,

because the vendor at the market was so compelling,

you just had to have them,

you had to have him,

and you did,

And now you pull down

the bridge between your houses,

you make him call before

he visits,

make the first bottle you consume

in this place a relic,

Place it on whatever altar you fashion

with a knife and five cranberries,

don’t lose too much weight,

stupid girls are always trying

to disappear as revenge,

and you are not stupid,

You loved a man with more hands than a parade

of beggars, 

and here you stand,

Heart like a four-post bed,

heart like a canvas,

heart leaking something so strong

they can smell it in the street.”