Having little love for yourself,
Is almost like having no room in your shoes to grow; or to be comfortable.
It’s the same as a plant needing a bigger *** to thrive and for its roots to grow.
Having little love for yourself doesn’t mean you need to hide in the dark of your own show; your life.
Having little love for yourself is like trapping your heart and mind into a cage together, seamlessly squashed, claustrophobic.
So of course you’re going to feel down,
And of course some days you won’t feel confident.
These days are aloud to happen.
But, you have to have power in yourself to let a new day roll in.
Unlock the cage, let the bird roam free for a while.
And breathe. And laugh. And stay social.
And do what makes you happy. And; most of all, keep the door to the cage of your heart open to yourself, and only yourself. And practice. Practise your love. Your self love.
I shout aloud I love you- but you never hear.
Nor were you close enough.
I could never reach you,
Up and out there, living.
Most days I just wanted a kiss from you to taste your solar flares.
To risk my life.
To feel just one touch of you.
Yet, here we are, in one galaxy, living in different dimensions as it feels; with a hundred million miles between us.
Sun, why cannot we become one?
I love how clouds look like draped curtains- the fairytale type.
I find it enthralling that most look like a heavy mass, puffy and angry- yet only a body of water and air.
I love how they live memories.
How they shape the sky, as if they were blankets- comforting.
How they wear and reflect the sunset.
How they never sleep, enduring long days and nights.
I love that there are so many types of clouds, almost like different races.
I love how uniquely (but simply) that they are made.
I love that they are live art, an installation.
I love that they are in this world, my world.
They were a pair,
two stars on the verge of colliding in the galaxy,
their love pulled them together like a black hole.
Their disagreements threaded them through it.
I don’t care if you like roses.
He’s a f*cking sunflower.
Shower him with light,
For he is a king set for the sun.
I wanted you to be my Autumn leaf.
Glittering gold hiding beneath.
Smiling at you, while getting cinnamon out of my teeth.
Hold my hand as we walk through crunchy leaves.
You may be human, but you’re also a flower.
You hold so much power as you walk through April,
Petals curtly tucked away.
Walking past the naked trees,
you shiver from the Autumn breeze.
You wait for Spring,
although knowing you haven’t met winter.
You think that this year your heart will freeze.