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i had a therapist tell me once, that it is ironic of how much love i gave out cause i didn’t give much to myself. she laughed like self love was a sick joke. i chuckled... & cried at home. i had someone tell me once i could not love anyone else until i learned to love myself.. this time i got to laugh. this time the sick joke was mine. it was me. might as well wait forever. i remember hating myself at the age of 10. journals filled to the brim with criticisms by 13. i had enough pages to stitch them into wings to fly close enough to the sun to see my tears turn to steam, felt the wax burn on my shoulder & mold into thick skin. i was 14 when i wanted to die. 15 was when i found a solution. figured if i could cut my arms enough gravity would let me go. when it didn’t i tied a pillow case around my neck twisting like the rope swings i knew so well from childhood. hear my heartbeat pound in my ears like a warning drum, then fade.. i almost convinced myself i’ve done it. when i started writing i smeared my blood on every page to remind myself that everything beautiful has a consequence. i have died so many times. so when i told you that loving you almost makes life worth it i was not joking. when i tell you that loving you almost makes me forget how much i hate myself. IT IS NOT A POETRY. loving you is taking all the love i could never give myself & putting it to good use. it is reminding myself that if someone can love a dying thing this way they can hold my heart with their hands & give thanks to the way it hold back. is someone can kiss the scars, administer the pills, absorb the bad days & wake up smiling next to me then i can try to breath again. BECAUSE SELF LOVE DOES NOT ALWAYS COME FIRST.. or second, or even ever!! let your love be the guard rail on the ledge. let the drawers that hide all the sharp things be the body that carries my collapsed frame into bed. be the flowers you bought, cause even tho they are dying to they still dance. LOVE WILL NOT HEAL ME. i will always be a women of wounds.. love will not heal me, but it will hold my hand if i ever heal myself. & maybe teach me a joke that i can stay alive long enough to laugh at it. I LOVE YOU.. ENOUGH TO WANT TO LOVE MYSELF TOO.
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