“A creative heart, obsessed with satisfying
this dormant and uncaring society
you have given them the stars at night
and u have given them
Bountiful Bouquets of Sunflowers
but 4 u there is only contempt
and though u pour yourself into that fame
and present it so proudly this world
could not accept your masterpieces
from the heart.
So on that starry night u gave 2 us
and u took away from us
the one thing we never acknowledged
your life.”—"Starry Night" by Tupac Shakur
“I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; So I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.” -Pablo Neruda
I found this a couple days before you died, printed it out, and promised to stick it in with your Valentine’s Day letter. I had forgotten to grab it when I went to pick you up that night. I forgot to tell you that I loved you one last time.
I’m crying. This is so incredibly beautiful and heartbreakingshattering.