An Open letter to the poets and writers I know

And the ones I don't

i. You are every gorgeous hue of the sky colliding to form a masterpiece.

ii. You are the sunset and the sunrise all at once, a compilation of intricacies handcrafted for you, by you. You are your own God. You are the sun, and the moon and her stars, and nothing can ever hinder that.

iii. Your words are streaked with the beautiful yellow shade of the sunlight and grey clouds that have the ability to cover. You are both the storm and a hand to guide me through it

iv. You are made of oceans and your words are raging waves coursing through your veins, begging for the ink on the shore to save them.

v. You can conjure up a tsunami with every letter you form and drown the whole world, but instead we are swimming in the beauty of your words.

vi. When God promised he wouldn't allow the whole earth to be flooded in all its entirety again, I dot think he considered the power of your writing

vii. Your mind's made up of constellations waiting to be discovered and supernovas awaiting the chance to burst and every so often they do and the Earth ceases to spin and gazes at your gorgeous lights in amazement.

vii. You've got stars laced between your fingers, glowing with every stroke of your pen, and even they hold their breath in anticipation to see what new thread you weave the into.

ix. You've got galaxies growing with your veins and every now and then you mistake them for black holes and beg them to escape, but darling, you're celestial and the universe is graced with your presence.

x. You are a finished masterpiece yet a work in progress, every single stroke of that paint from your fingers is breathtaking in its own way.

xi. You are the artist sketching love letters in calligraphy on every soul, leaving a mark of your wonders on everyone who you see have art in their bloodstreams.

xii.you are the art every museum longs to have. You are the watercolour in everyone's lungs. You are the he[art] we all cherish and adore.

xiii. You new a wildfire, combusting into the most stunning shades of orange and red; one can only stop and stare- there's so much beauty in the conflagration

xiv. Your words are flames so fascinating, people don't mind getting burnt. To read, yo feel the talent of pushing through your veins, to touch the fire is an honour.

xv. Turn the world into a forest and burn it down; it deserves to hear your voice.

// tag your favourite wattpad author,poet, writer,

tag them so they know they're the fireflies lighting up your world<3