August 31, 2017

When I love I give them wings.

There were times, while reading Rupi Kaur’s milk and honey, when I was tempted to tear out pages, snippets, and paste them on the wall next to me.

They frown on this behaviour with library books, so instead I scribbled down passages and verses in my notebook, knowing well that I will return to them again, and often.

There have been few things written that describe me so perfectly, so I had to share this poem with you all:

i don’t know what living a balanced
life feels like
when i am sad
i don’t cry i pour
when i am happy
i don’t smile i glow
when i am angry
i don’t yell i burn

the good thing about feeling in
extremes is
when i love i give them wings
but perhaps that isn’t
such a good thing cause
they always tend to leave
and you should see me
when my heart is broken
i don’t grieve
i shatter

There are poems about desire that sit heavy for hours after reading them:

i need someone
who knows struggle
as well as i do
someone
willing to hold my feet in their lap
on days it is too difficult to stand

There are pieces about heartbreak that feel like your heart is breaking all over again:

the next time you
have your coffee black
you’ll taste the bitter
state he left you in
it will make you weep
but you’ll never
stop drinking
you’d rather have the
darkest parts of him
than have nothing

There are short aphorisms that contain so much truth:

people go
but how
they left
always stays

Perhaps most importantly, there are affirmations that we all need to hear, to tell ourselves more often:

your body
is a museum
of natural disasters
can you grasp how
stunning that is

The appeal of Rupi Kaur’s milk and honey is inherently the power of good poetry: the ability to resonate, to feel personal yet universal, and to make you examine emotions and experiences you’ve had before.

I read this collection twice before returning it to the library. I will undoubtedly read it again.


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