I want to pour love into you.
Not in whispers,
not in careful, measured doses,
but in floods.
I want to stand on rooftops
and shout until my voice gives out,
You are loved.
You are valued.
You matter.
You are everything good this world keeps trying to convince you it forgot.
I want to love you
in ways that others would call too much,
because to me,
this is simply the bare minimum.
I want to be the kind of friend
that stitches together
every place someone else left torn.
The kind that makes you believe
that closeness isn’t always followed by loss.
That people can stay.
I know loneliness has built itself
a home inside your chest.
And every time I see it,
every part of me wants to gather you in my arms
and hold you
until your heart remembers
what it feels like
to not carry the weight alone.
So if you ever wonder
whether there’s someone beside you,
look for me.
I’ll be there—
arms open,
heart overflowing,
a pitcher so full of love
I’ll keep pouring
until you believe
you never had to be alone
to begin with.