how to grow flowers.

let’s make the sun a metaphor for love and you, the sunflower.

you have to fight for everything you love. you have to tell people you love them often. when they need it the most. when they’re sitting at the edge of their bed and they can’t listen to their favorite song anymore because it brings back something bad. it’s okay. tell them it’s okay. tell them that they should listen to it. tell them to keep everything they love so close, there’ll be no space for anything gray. but also tell them you love them when they don’t need it at all. because you were born to give so much love, it’s meant to shine outwards like sunbeams. you are here and you know it’s okay to love everything too much. you’re going to be there for the people you love even when the porch light is off.

you cannot give up on people. it’s like deciding to not turn on the lights in your house one day because the sun’s going to be around anyway. wait. wait for something you want so badly, you’ve bruised your knuckles hitting the wall because it’s taking too long. some things always take a little too long, don’t they?

be patient. this is very important. you cannot walk away because they’re so sad, you cannot walk away because they’re in a bad place and you’re not, you cannot walk away from their rough day when you had an almost perfect day, you cannot walk away from them if you want everything to be symmetrical to you. there’s no symmetry in love. you can’t just walk away from a mess. don’t fix their mess. they will do it. everyone sorts out their mess eventually. it’s like cleaning your room, you know? one day you just throw your old pair of jeans on the bed and then you wake up one morning and your feet are tangled in it and then you realize it was your favorite pair of jeans. you don’t want to throw it away anymore.

don’t be selfish. when they’re talking all excited and happy, their eyes are so bright you can’t stop smiling, listen to them. maybe you’re the only one who is. maybe you’re the first person they called to tell that they found twenty bucks in their pocket and they’re so excited, they’re jumping in the air. when someone tells you first that they’re happy about something, have you thought how lucky you are? that they picked up their phone to call someone, and they first thought of you?
be excited for them. be happy for them. maybe you’re the only one who can be.

you know when you can’t tell anyone that you’re crying in the bathroom with a towel inside your mouth because they just watched a movie they really loved or went to the beach watching seagulls and they just had a really good day, but you’re crying so much it feels like death, and your chest is really heavy, because you can’t be selfish, i know that. i know how it feels. and it’s terrible. but it works both ways. it’s really important to understand and accept that it’s not always the colorful part of the spectrum and happiness are just not a permanent concept in the theory of love. it’s okay to vent out to anyone you think who is there for you on any lane in your good or bad place. if you trust them enough to not walk away from you when you’re crying dark tears, you might have just found something so precious it’ll be horrible if you lose it.

and everything i’ve ever written comes down to one thing i believe in the most.

to give love, always. to believe in love. to always, always, choose to fight for something and someone you love. i don’t know if it’ll be worth it because sometimes you make mistakes loving the wrong thing or wrong person and it might bring out terrible consequences but you don’t throw out the pair of jeans because you just assume it won’t fit you, right? you keep it.

because, you can’t take a sunflower at dusk, stand on an empty lane, look up to the sky and make the flower grow when there’s no sun.

5:33 pm

i think the reason i let things affect me so much is that i let everything i feel, shine outwardly towards people. and it’s a good thing and a bad one at the same time, you know?
if you showed me some of the poetry you wrote and you asked me the next day what i thought about it, i will tell you that i read it seven times and each time, i cried.
if you shared your sandwich with me, i will tell you that I loved it another five times.
i will constantly tell you i love you.
and sometimes, people just brush away the things people care for too much or show love too much.
because i constantly tell you that you might like my favorite song and I’ll try to make you listen to it everyday, I’ll try, and you will listen to it, and I’ll keep telling you my favorite part in it, where Kurt Cobain finally finishes the verse with the word love but what if it’s just another song in your playlist but i wanted it to be
our song?

god, i love you

god, i fucking love you. the nights are making it worse. i fall in love every day and then at night i’m here and it’s dark but i need to switch on the lights, i need to get my paper and pen and i need to write. i want to write about you. god, you’re beautiful. i want to write about everything that’s beautiful. let’s talk about love all night. we stay up late and talk about the human race and how it’s funny that we exist here. let’s create a hypothetical universe. where we’re singing in dusty and windy skies and we’re making out the outlines of our favorite buildings through rainy windows, i want to show you my favorite home, the one with windows shaped like my heart, i want to take you to this place i love. let’s create a hypothetical universe away from all the parallel ones that the human race creates. we fall asleep. let’s fall asleep while i’m still here telling you that i love you, like a drugstore perfume. i want to write about us. i love us. i love every piece of this world when you’re around. i like how the flowers smell. you make me happy. god, you make me happy. so fucking happy and i’m sitting here thinking about what to write and i keep thinking i need to keep it under a hundred words but god, you make me want to write so much poetry. my eyes are red. let me hear you sing your favorite song, not mine. i want to see you happy, closed eyes and tired skin. i want to see you at home, a metaphor for everything you always loved. i love everything like i love you. i love summer nights when the wind is kissing your face like a warm hug and i’m sitting here writing this and everything is hitting me like a headcannon and i’m sitting here thinking about when i couldn’t imagine myself existing in this space in time, tonight, sitting here with dim lights surrounding me that i would be writing poetry, that i would be sitting one night, thinking about a boy i love and how he makes me happy, dancing in the air happy and i want to cry thinking that this exists, we exist and everything is so fucking beauitful, and i love love, i love love and i’m here and i love you so much it hurts. i’m in love and i’m screaming it to the world at the top of my lungs that i’m so fucking happy everything’s here. everything exists.

9:53 pm

every time, i hate the moon.

right now,
this city suffocating me
stands under a flashlight
of pastel white
of the moon
and i’ve never made it my
protagonist in poetry.

this city, my only friend
will be a dusty blanket,
i’ll leave everything behind
and i’ll play headlights
towards the road that doesn’t kill me

but it comforts me endlessly tonight
that this city i’ll leave behind
will look at a moon i’ll love
in a city
that i’ll love.

growing into the moon myself.