by Rupi Kaur
also by rupi kaur
milk and honey
the sun and her flowers copyright © 2017 by Rupi Kaur. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of reprints in the context of reviews.
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ISBN: 978-1-4494-8889-5
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017948761
Illustrations and design by Rupi Kaur
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to my makers
kamaljit kaur and suchet singh
i am. because of you.
i hope you look at us
and think
your sacrifices were worth it
to my stunning sisters and brother
prabhdeep kaur
kirandeep kaur
saaheb singh
we are in this together
you define love.
contents
wilting
falling
rooting
rising
blooming
bees came for honey
flowers giggled as they
undressed themselves
for the taking
the sun smiled
- the second birth
on the last day of love
my heart cracked inside my body
i spent the entire night
casting spells to bring you back
i reached for the last bouquet of flowers
you gave me
now wilting in their vase
one
by
one
i popped their heads off
and ate them
i stuffed a towel at the foot of every door
leave i told the air
i have no use for you
i drew every curtain in the house
go i told the light
no one is coming in
and no one is going out
- cemetery
you left
and i wanted you still
yet i deserved someone
who was willing to stay
i spend days in bed debilitated by loss
i attempt to cry you back
but the water is done
and still you have not returned
i pinch my belly till it bleeds
have lost count of the days
sun becomes moon and
moon becomes sun and
i become ghost
a dozen different thoughts
tear through me each second
you must be on your way
perhaps it’s best if you’re not
i am okay
no
i am angry
yes
i hate you
maybe
i can’t move on
i will
i forgive you
i want to rip my hair out
over and over and over again
till my mind exhausts itself into a silence
yesterday
the rain tried to imitate my hands
by running down your body
i ripped the sky apart for allowing it
- jealousy
in order to fall asleep
i have to imagine your body
crooked behind mine
spoon ladled into spoon
till i can hear your breath
i have to recite your name
till you answer and
we have a conversation
only then
can my mind
drift off to sleep
- pretend
it isn’t what we left behind
that breaks me
it’s what we could’ve built
had we stayed
i can still see our construction hats lying
exactly where we left them
pylons unsure of what to guard
bulldozers gazing out for our return
the planks of wood stiff in their boxes
yearning to be nailed up
but neither of us goes back
to tell them it is over
in time
the bricks will grow tired of waiting and crumble
the cranes will droop their necks in sorrow
the shovels will rust
do you think flowers will grow here
when you and i are off
building something new
with someone else
- the construction site of our future
i live for that first second in the morning
when i am still half-conscious
i hear the hummingbirds outside
flirting with the flowers
i hear the flowers giggling
and the bees growing jealous
when i turn over to wake you
it starts all over again
the panting
the wailing
the shock
of realizing
that you’ve left
- the first mornings without you
the hummingbirds tell me
you’ve changed your hair
i tell them i don’t care
while listening to them
describe every detail
- hunger
i envy the winds
who still witness you
i could be anything
in the world
but i wanted to be his
i tried to leave many times but
as soon as i got away
my lungs buckled under the pressure
panting for air i’d return
perhaps this is why i let you
skin me to the bone
something
was better than nothing
having you touch me
even if it was not kind
was better than not having your hands at all
i could take the abuse
i could not take the absence
i knew i was beating a dead thing
but did it matter
if the thing was dead
when at the very least
i had it
- addiction
you break women in like shoes
loving you was breathing
but that breath disappearing
before it filled my lungs
- when it goes too soon
what love looks like
what does love look like the therapist asks
one week after the breakup
and i’m not sure how to answer her question
except for the fact that i thought love
looked so much like you
that’s when it hit me
and i realized how naive i had been
to place an idea so beautiful on the image of a person
as if anybody on this entire earth
could encompass all love represented
as if this emotion seven billion people tremble for
would look like a five foot eleven
medium-sized brown-skinned guy
who likes eating frozen pizza for breakfast
what does love look like the therapist asks again
this time interrupting my thoughts midsentence
and at this point i’m about to get up
and walk right out the door
except i paid far too much money for this hour
so instead i take a piercing look at her
the way you look at someone
when you’re about to hand it to them
lips pursed tightly preparing to launch into conversation
eyes digging deeply into theirs
searching for all the weak spots
they have hidden somewhere
hair being tucked behind the ears
as if you have to physically prepare for a conversation
on the philosophies or rather disappointments
of what love looks like
well i tell her
i don’t think love is him anymore
if love was him
he would be here wouldn’t he
if he was the one for me
wouldn’t he be the one sitting across from me
if love was him it would have been simple
i don’t think love is him anymore i repeat
i think love never was
i think i just wanted something
was ready to give myself to something
i believed was bigger than myself
and when i saw someone
who could probably fit the part
i made it very much my intention
to make him my counterpart
and i lost myself to him
he took and he took
wrapped me in the word special
until i was so convinced he had eyes only to see me
hands only to feel me
a body only to be with me
oh how he emptied me
how does that make you feel
interrupts the therapist
well i said
it kind of makes me feel like shit
maybe we’re all looking at it wrong
we think it’s something to search for out there
something meant to crash into us
on our way out of an elevator
or slip into our chair at a cafe somewhere
appear at the end of an aisle at the bookstore
looking the right amount of sexy and intellectual
but i think love starts here
everything else is just desire and projection
of all our wants needs and fantasies
but those externalities could never work out
if we didn’t turn inward and learn
how to love ourselves in order to love other people
love does not look like a person
love is our actions
love is giving all we can
even if it’s just the bigger slice of cake
love is understanding
we have the power to hurt one another
but we are going to do everything in our power
to make sure we don’t
love is figuring out all the kind sweetness we deserve
and when someone shows up
saying they will provide it as you do
but their actions seem to break you
rather than build you
love is knowing whom to choose
you cannot
walk in and out of me
like a revolving door
i have too many miracles
happening inside me
to be your convenient option
- not your hobby
you took the sun with you
when you left
i remained committed
long after you were gone
i could not lift my eyes
to meet eyes with someone else
looking felt like betrayal
what excuse would i have
when you came back
and asked where my hands had been
- loyal
when you plunged the knife into me
you also began bleeding
my wound became your wound
didn’t you know
love is a double-edged knife
you will suffer the way you make me suffer
i think my body knew you would not stay
i long
for you
but you long
for someone else
i deny the one
who wants me
cause i want someone else
- the human condition
i wonder if i am
beautiful enough for you
or if i am beautiful at all
i change what i am wearing
five times before i see you
wondering which pair of jeans will make
my body more tempting to undress
tell me
is there anything i can do
to make you think
her
she is so striking
she makes my body forget it has knees
write it in a letter and address it
to all the insecure parts of me
your voice alone drives me to tears
yours telling me i am beautiful
yours telling me i am enough
you’re everywhere
except right here
and it hurts
show me a picture
i want to see the face of the woman
who made you forget the one you had at home
what day was it and
what excuse did you feed me
i used to thank the universe
for bringing you to me
did you enter her right as
i asked the almighty
to grant you all you wanted
did you find it in her
did you come crawling out of her
with what you couldn’t in me
what draws you to her
tell me what you like
so i can practice
your absence is a missing limb
questions
there is a list of questions
i want to ask but never will
there is a list of questions
i go through in my head
every time i’m alone
and my mind can’t stop itself from searching for you
there is a list of questions i want to ask
so if you’re listening somewhere
here i am asking them
what do you think happens
to the love that’s left behind
when two lovers leave
how blue do you think it gets
before it passes away
does it pass away
or does it still exist somewhere
waiting for us to come back
when we lied to ourselves by
calling this unconditional and left
which one of us hurt more
i shattered into a million little pieces
and those pieces shattered into a million more
crumbled into dust till
there was nothing left of me but
the silence
tell me how love
how did the grieving feel for you
how did the mourning hurt
how did you peel your eyes open after every blink
knowing i’d never be there staring back
it must be hard to live with what ifs
there must always be this constant dull aching
in the pit of your stomach
trust me
i feel it too
how in the world did we get here
how did we live through it
and how are we still living
how many months did it take
before you stopped thinking of me
or are you still thinking of me
cause if you are
then maybe i am too
thinking of you
thinking of me
with me
in me
around me
everywhere
you and me and us
do you still touch yourself to thoughts of me
do you still imagine my naked naked tiny tiny body
pressed into yours
do you still imagine the curve of my spine and
how you wanted to rip it out of me
cause the way it dipped into my
perfectly rounded bottom
drove you crazy
baby
sugar baby
sweet baby
ever since we left
how many times did you pretend
it was my hand stroking you
how many times did you search for me in your fantasies
and end up crying instead of coming
don’t you lie to me
i can tell when you’re lying
cause there’s always that little bit of
arrogance in your response
are you angry with me
are you okay
and would you tell me if you’re not
and if we ever see each other again
do you think you’d reach out and hold me
like you said you would
the last time we spoke and
you talked of the next time we would
