Milk and Honey and The Sun and Her Flowers have captured the hearts of thousands of readers around the world. Rupi Kaur's compositions have inspired gut-wrenching open letters and sentimental social media posts, and have allowed readers and Tumblr bloggers to relate to powerful accounts of love and its consequences, life and loss, and the discovery of oneself through hardship and triumph. If you've ever considered reading Kaur's poetry but haven't gotten around to it yet, allow short compilation to convince you.

i want to apologize to all the women

i have called pretty

before I've called them intelligent or brave

i am sorry i made it sound as though

something as simple as what you're born with

is the most you have to be proud of when your

spirit has crushed mountains

from now on i will say things like

you are resilient or you are extraordinary

not because i don't think you're pretty

but because you are so much more than that

I think this is important to remember when I, as a woman, think about how to talk to the other females in my life. When I offer support to broken-hearted friends, I refrain from saying, "And you're gorgeous, and they're a fool not to see that!" as often as I can, because there is SO. MUCH. MORE to them than simple aesthetics. A pretty face has nothing to do with how you well you bounce back from trauma, or how soft your eyes get when you see a puppy on television. Your looks have absolutely nothing to do with how great of a friend, lover, brother or sister, niece or nephew you are, and it's important to appreciate the person, and not just the packaging the person comes in.

other women's bodies

are not our battlegrounds

Build your sisters up. Try and stop prior to your next negative thought regarding what she should or shouldn't be wearing. Leave her to her own jurisdiction over her anatomy. Realize that she wasn't asking for it. She is a force to be reckoned with, know that before you incite a war.

you tell me

i am not like most girls

and learn to kiss me with your eyes closed

something about the phrase - something about

how i have to be unlike the women

i call sisters in order to be wanted

makes me want to spit your tongue out

like i am supposed to be proud you picked me

as if i should be relieved you think

i am better than them

Originally reading this hit me like a ton of bricks, a poetic "humble yourself," if you will. Throughout the course of past relationships, I've been told, "You're just... different." Initially, I took the statement as a compliment, and, while it's nice to be reminded that I'm not a carbon copy of every female these past men had come in contact with, is having similar traits as other females such a bad thing? There are a million and a half stereotypes and expectations regarding the behavior of women (and men) - surely it's no surprise that some will be similar?

i struggle so deeply

to understand

how someone can

pour their entire soul

blood and energy

into someone

without wanting

anything in

return

- i will have to wait till i'm a mother

This particular piece resonated with me as a way to say "thank you" to my own mother, if she reads this. She continuously surprises me with her selflessness, and how far she'll stretch beyond her own capacity in order to provide for friends and family. There have been plenty of times that I didn't understand her reasoning behind doing what she did - perhaps I won't, as Kaur said, unless I become a mother.

there is no bigger illusion in the world

than the idea that a woman will

bring dishonor into a home

if she tries to keep her heart

and her body safe

every time you

tell your daughter

you yell at her

out of love

you teach her to confuse

anger with kindness

which seems like a good idea

till she grows up to

trust men who hurt her

cause they look so much

like you

- to fathers with daughters

I fell in love with this because of the push to move away from the age old "he only teases you because he likes you" idea that we teach to young girls. Each and every time we excuse behavior simply because it comes from our parents, we deepen adherence to subservience in the name of love. Additionally, this holds parents accountable for their role in their child's development, because yeah, that does have an effect. In my own experience, I've pursued men who had some sort of addiction, be it drugs, alcohol, or work, because I grew up with an alcoholic family member. I wanted to fix them, and that translated to wanting to fix these men. I unknowingly looked for similar traits that said family member possessed; my "anger with kindness" became "drugs with love."

what if

there isn’t enough time

to give her what she deserves

do you think

if i begged the sky hard enough

my mother’s soul would

return to me as my daughter

so i can give her

the comfort she gave me

my whole life

I interpreted this as a simultaneous "thank you" and apology to a mother, that I am applying to mine. The poem is relatively self-explanatory in that I want to return the same love that my mother radiates, and sometimes, I wonder if I've even come close to that goal.

the world

gives you

so much pain

and here you are

making gold out of it

- there is nothing purer than that

This is your daily reminder that, although it may seem impossible at times, making the best out of a bad situation should always be your go-to. You've survived every single one of your worst days since you've been old enough to know what a bad day is, and can continue to do so. Take your pain, and let it drive your passions.

stay strong through your pain

grow flowers from it

you have helped me

grow flowers out of mine so

bloom beautifully

dangerously

loudly

bloom softly

however you need

just bloom

- to the reader

This poem hit me because of its expressed differences in how each person grows, validating each person in how fast or slow, dramatic or subtle, internally or externally they develop. I have a habit of comparing myself and where I am in life to those around me, and often times, the comparisons don't end up in my favor. I have to remember that a mile of progress to me may only be a foot of progress to somebody else, and that's okay. As long as I am not stagnant and am continuously working towards my aspirations, I am okay, and so are you.

the abused

and the

abuser

- i have been both

Nobody ever wants to believe that they're wrong, and that's why I admire this short piece. It takes a lot of strength to look into yourself and realize that you haven't always treated those around you as well as you preach to do, and has inspired me to do the same. You won't be nice, or right, 100% of the time, and that isn't always bad as long as you can admit it and own up to it.

when my mother says i deserve better

i snap to your defense out of habit

he still loves me i shout

she looks at me with defeated eyes

the way a parent looks at their child

when they know this is the type of pain

even they can’t fix

and says

it means nothing to me if he loves you

if he can’t do a single wretched thing about it

My breath caught in my throat upon reading this for the first time, and one specific person came to mind. I knew I should have stayed away from them, and I was warned by my mother, and my father, and my friends, and his friends, that maybe it wasn't the greatest idea to continue down the road he was leading me. I loved him, and I wanted to believe that he loved me. I learned, but I needed to do it by myself - nothing my mother, or father, or my friends or his friends said or did would convince me otherwise.

the thing about having

an alcoholic parent

is an alcoholic parent

does not exist

simply

an alcoholic

who could not stay sober

long enough to raise their kids

Some of us are fortunate enough to have functioning alcoholic parents as opposed to non-functioning.That is the only discretion. Often times, "alcoholic" is a lightly used term, but it's implications are far more than that of somebody who only goes out on the weekends. The older I get, the less I believe you can truly balance alcoholism with anything else.

this is the recipe of life

said my mother

as she held me in her arms as i wept

think of those flowers you plant

in the garden each year

they will teach you

that people too

must wilt

fall

root

rise

in order to bloom

I read this in the perspective of a best friend speaking to me as opposed to my mother, even though the point of view is specified. It is so important to remember that the lightest of times always come after the darkest, and that things cannot possibly be bad forever. Refer to the first poem in this list if you need any further convincing.

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

It took me years to recognize the difference between being "loved" and being an option when nothing better was currently available. I cried when I made the decision to cut them off. I still think about them often but, I have come to terms with the words of Kaur's work and hold it very near to my work.