Letter #14 of 36 from The Marilyn Rising: Letters to Marilyn

GiGi

Dearest Marilyn,

Why didn't you speak up? Why didn't you say something?

All of the moments where you kept silence as your secret lover, why didn't you just scream?!

I'm just now learning that my rage is sacred so, pardon me for wanting to power through these pages with a blow torch.

You were so good, so pure, so angelic, and they had to demonize you.

They took something so natural, so sacred, so expansive, and shrunk you down to a plain white halter dress.

Little did they know of your witching ability to alchemize all the vanilla in the world into a hot fudge chocolate fucking sundae with rainbow sprinkles and the juiciest red sexpot cherry on top.

They saw your beaming icy blue eyes and platinum blonde hair and said to themselves, “yup she's the devil in human form!”

HOW COULD THEY?!

How could they do that to you and, here's that sacred rage coming in, how could YOU ALLOW IT?!

Because every day I feel the strongest wave of your energy coursing through me, revitalizing and invigorating me for this treacherous and wild journey we call life.

Ya know, I've always been more of an ice cream gal like yourself, never much for pie, even though life keeps serving me many servings of the humble variety.

I know you, I know my imperfections, and I know you spoke up when you needed to, and that all played out as it was magically meant to then, now, and forever more.