her flowers

In seventh grade, I picked up my first poetry book. Mainly for a club I was involved in at the time, where I had to pick poems to dramatically interpret in front of an audience.

the sun and her flowers, by Rupi Kaur.

My interest in Kaur was piqued by the fact that she was an Indian author. I wanted to see what she could accomplish, as this was my first time coming across an author sharing my ethnicity. However, upon picking up the book, I quickly realized that many of the themes were better suited for a mature audience, as she analyzed love and loss, trauma and abuse, healing, femininity, and the body. All of these were topics that I could not relate to at the time. But, I went ahead and picked a few to present and ended up receiving second place at my competitions. (subtle flex yeahhh)

A few weeks ago, I read the book cover to cover again, as well as milk and honey, also by Rupi Kaur. Many of her poems stood out to me, such as “what love looks like” but her shortest ones were of greater impact to me. 

you do not just wake up and become the butterfly

- growth is a process

In such little words, I found so much meaning. You cannot change overnight. There will be unfortunate moments where your flaws surface, moments where you feel a drowning sadness, moments where you feel dissatisfied or inadequate. Change can’t be instantaneous. Like a caterpillar evolving into a butterfly, you must also take your time to understand what it is that you must change, eat your food, and finally, evolve in the solitude of the cocoon you make when you create a little world for yourself. In someone else’s words, if you were to take a look at yourself from an outside perspective, would you be so hard on yourself to change?

This poem also spoke to me.

when the world comes crashing at your feet it’s okay to let others

help pick up the pieces

if we’re present to take part in your happiness when your circumstances are great

we are more than capable of sharing your pain

- community

It’s important to realize that you are not alone, and this poem reminded me that there is nothing wrong with sharing my true self, emotions, and experiences with my closest friends. In fact, I think it is the most important thing you can do: trust others that you feel like you can talk to, people who truly provoke you to focus deeper.

My favorite poem of them all:

when i hit the rock bottom

that exists after the rock bottom and no rope or hand appeared

i wondered

what if nothing wants me because i do not want me

- i am both the poison and the antidote

In simple words, you must take care of yourself.