Whenever I get mad, I pretend that I am a goddess. I imagine this ethereal glow emanating from me and remind myself that as soon as I raise my voice, spit out cruel words or lash out, I would have to spend days regretting. Every bitterness that comes out of me makes another flower wilt.
The world around you can be so cruel. But you must stay soft.
So, with curled lashes, flushed cheeks and loose hair, I will live with the kind of velvety elegance that even roses would be jealous of.