a poem that resonated with me:
She didn't think anyone could love her,
She felt like something dark and heavy lived within within her.
Whispering all day turning softly, telling her she was unworthy,
She wore her scars like armour - convinced they made her undeserving of love.
She had survived so much yet the insidious weight of her self doubt compounded daily making it impossible to see any end in sight.
But, perhaps she needed to remember.
Imperfection is beauty and madness has its own kind of genius
Its better to be absolutely ridiculous than to fade into the shadows of self rejection.
Maybe one day she'd realize that she alone is enough.
There is nothing she has to prove to anybody
and in time her heart might discover that love is not something she needs to chase or earn
love in all its forms could already be hers, waiting patiently to be seen