Love is loving me when I don’t even love me.
Love is reaching for me even when I push you away.
When I scream and throw things at you.
When I curl into a ball, in a corner.
My head so heavy, leaned against a wall.
Love is waiting for me. Arms stretched out ready to hold me when that wall gets too hard and cold.
But that wall is what I deserve. So your arms get sore.
Love is waiting for me to feel the bottom of my despair.
Love is letting me get there.
When I have surrendered to the dark, love is when you hope and don’t judge.
Love is giving me the freedom to be sad
Love is loving me when I hurt you.