Pitcher Full of Love

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.