maybe it’s time
for most of my life
self-hatred is the only language I’m most fluent in
when I left a mistake in my trail
I would scratch my skin
hoping I’d bleed and be born anew
I couldn’t bear to see myself go unpunished
maybe if I were a Greek god, I’d be Atlas
feeling like I was chained to the world
and its heartbreak a burden for me to carry
when I met you
you asked me why I carried them alone
why I carried them at all
why I would inflict pain on myself
when I did something as human as making mistakes
you treat your heart with care because your parents didn’t
the world was hard on you, but you decide to thicken your skin
to protect the soft soul within
your voice has soothed the wounds I left untreated for years
the warmth of your arms has seeped between my cracks
and nursed me back to health
I thought love and safety are conditional, a reward
as if I needed to complete a to-do list
before I can get them as a fully grown human being
but if God loves me as I am, who am I to deny that love?
your presence has become a permanent fixture in my life
and the picture-perfect vision I once held is slowly chipping itself away
I no longer want to tick off checkboxes
or shoulder myself with unrealistic expectations
you tell me you love me, and I love you
if that’s true,
then maybe, I have enough love for myself, too.
