Planting Seeds In The Dark

Gina Clingan
3 min readJul 31, 2022


Photo by Joshua Lanzarini on Unsplash

I’ve decided who I want to be
and what I want to do
with the rest of my life.
I want to be someone who
makes people cry.
I want to move you to tears
with the words that I write.

I want to summon rivers from irises,
and validate your truth
through my own.
I want to write something so beautiful,
that you have to stand up to read it
and put down your phone,
because you discovered a poem
that you didn’t know you needed.

I want to dance
with my shadows
and battle my demons
in ink,
until even your darkest midnights feel like home,
because you are no longer afraid
of anything.

I want my verses
to put you in a kind of trance
that has you pacing in the kitchen,
with no pants,
at 2 a.m.
with a notebook
and a pen in your hand.
I want to summon poetry
from your fingertips
and unsuspecting lips,
helping you discover
your unknown talent
like magic tricks.

I want to give you a safe space
in literature
where you can reveal
the rawest parts of your existence
to yourself,
where you can honor
that you’ve ever felt
and come to terms
with the rock bottoms you’ve merely escaped,
or still might come to meet

I want to inspire people like you
to write their way home,
back to themselves.
You are not alone.
You can make it out of this hell
if you just try
and keep reaching for the light.
I just want to make people like you cry
for the rest of my life.

The only tears I’ve encountered recently
are my own.
it feels like I’ve been watering something
that refuses to grow.
I swear to God, I’m trying.
I just need the Universe
to help me help myself.
I pray to never become another artist dying
of dehydration,
waiting for the rain that never fell.

I know the sun is shining,
even if its warmth
is something I’ve never felt.
I’ve been trying my best to glow
and cast an ambience of my own,
but I can only shine so bright.
Some things just can’t grow
in insufficient light.

I’ve been planting so many seeds,
but I’m not going to sell my soul
just to watch them bloom.
Either the sun will find them
or he won’t,
but I swear
if it’s meant to be,
I hope it happens soon.

I’m going to put every ounce of faith that I’ve got
into that oblivious little star.
It might feel like he’s gone sometimes,
but I know that he’s never too far
out of reach.
So, if you see him, tell him I said,
“Wake up, stupid!
Come and find me,
wherever you are.
You’ve got me looking like a fool out here
on my knees,
planting seeds
in the dark.”