Love yourself

I remember when I was a child and I was first taught to hate myself.

For no matter what your path it if mild or wild and if you live for love or for health,

Despite what your peers say because your style may be skewed in their eyes you must learn to love your self.

I remember crying my eyes so red and full of dread for the fear of not fitting in.

For being ripped out of one school to the next and not being able to grasp a friend, I have taken these emotions and store them in a bin. 

And now these bins are piling so high that if only I could reach the sky and knock them over then perhaps I could once again find myself.

But is the self that I would find laying idly by be the self that once built these walls with fear?

And if I stepped in there with my peers repair my heart if they knew it was their fault for putting me in these bars in giving me these scars, would they help me gather the pieces, and I would beg to Jesus that my loved ones would be aware of me enough to put the puzzle back together again.

For if my sadness doesn't leak as I would cut myself deep and i am week, and I would watch the blood collect late at my feet, I could give you a peek, but only once you found the puzzle pieces that are my mouth would I once again find myself and be given the gift to speak. Would you want to hear what I had to say?

So as I lay shattered upon the ground of this mound of my own flesh I wonder if it is truly best that I allow myself to bleed and have this need to hold my love accountable for my destruction. If I am willing to take myself out of this depression, and see that it is a addiction but I have placed myself in the detention, and allow the pieces to be gathered to know how to escape now? I really need this attention? Perhaps only if I had deflected the attacks that would lead me to believe and scream and have the need to plead with my peers that perhaps had disagreed for my need to be freed of their prying eyes and condemning lies of their own realities that perhaps even they are themselves unaware.

Why should I care? For as I lay in the mud this smooth, moist shell can begin to encompass me. And all I can hear is the throbbing of my own heart drumming and pounding in the back of my ears. I then will let go of my fears, and my allies and praying eyes, and I will accomplish this with most absolute stealth. For I will once again learn to love myself.