a message of self-love

Your body is like a flower. The kind of flowers you find by the sidewalk and in fields that are just too pretty for you to leave behind. Like a flower, you're beautiful. Your hair is as smooth as the petals that dress it. Your body is the stem. It carries you along the way, letting you complete your utmost desires, letting you experience being free and alive. Just like a flower, you curve. Your curves are you. Your curves should be embraced, they should lean you into the sunlight, just like a flower.

The sunlight burns your skin, reminding you it has the power to protect you. It has the power to let you become your brightest, strongest self. The sunlight, my love, wants to embrace you when nobody else will, reminding you all you need is to be loved by yourself. My love, without yourself, your flower will wither, it'll be carried away with the wind. Without you, your flower is nothing.

The rain, my love, persuades you to flourish. It persuades you to leave the house. To dance in the empty street by your home. It persuades you to call a friend or your lover. It persuades you to kiss, to embrace who you are, to embrace someone else. The rain has the magic of healing who you are. It calls you to sit by the window with a cup of tea in hand. It calls from your bookshelves, for you to give into reading again. It lets you experience it while it falls and drowns itself on your skin.

The drought reminds you that, like a flower, you can easily wither away if not careful. If you forget the feeling of the sun burning your skin, the rain healing it after it's been scorched. The drought reminds you you're strong. It reminds you you can be anything and anyone. You can be so low and climb your way back up. It reminds you of when you were a seed. When all you knew was what it was like to grow, but my love, like a flower, you have to remember how to stay.

But, just like a flower, if you give into the damn drought, you can learn to grow again.