Asterisks (Self-love is found in footnotes)

Tell me I am broken, and you wish to fill the gaps in my being with your love; Tell me I am imperfect, but that’s okay because my flaws are beautiful. Keep thinking that you are my savior When I am not at all in distress

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Stop, breathe, take, take, take, inhale— I can do this just another baby step forward, backwards, knees buckling scraping on the ground it’s rock rock rock bottom, top, there’s nothing inside.

I always forget to exhale.

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What they never tell people about healing is that sometimes it’s not a matter of wounds healing, or scars fading, but how every day the pain becomes more and more bearable.

That isn’t healing, that’s tolerance.

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I hate how I must feel like this, how broken tenderness and optimism forged steel skin to glass. I defend your humanity as if it was a gift; you became kind because of life, not despite it and that is your story, your legacy.

I filled the cracks with gum; I could not afford to rebuild.

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Oh, my Anguish, my Sun, surely close to my touch with how high I flew;

The sun’s lament is the lullaby of the sea.

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I wrote a message on the mirror of my apartment’s restroom, pressed my lips to the glass, my forehead to the letters, closed my eyes and watched them shatter to the ground: ‘You are loved’

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I’m tired of these worn out romances; these tired and abused clichés. I don’t want to grow old with you, own dogs with you, stay up with you; I’m tired of being told that your love will be my dream, my only salvation

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Watch closely: I’m stronger than you think. Can’t eat, can’t sleep; there’s more to grief than mourning. Savior complex—who are you saving? It’s human nature—we see in color too, you know. Breathing easy; why do we always try to breathe underwater?

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You’re fallible; you’re only human. I walked through clichéd rainy paths on my way home, tonight. I heard that in a movie, once: God is in the rain. Is it selfish to want to love myself Before I try to love another?