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I love you
Love is a hard word for you too, isn’t it?
The baggage that comes with love
It’s too much or at least it has been
Am I worthy of love?
Am I good enough?
Asked everyone as if it mattered
I don’t believe what they say either way
“I love you”, they say but is it true?
Or is it all a lie?
Of course, it’s a lie, it always is
No, I know they love me but would they if they saw me?
If they knew everything about me?
There goes my brain again, it spirals
Can’t control it or don’t want to I guess
If I’m sad then I can be important
If I’m suffering then I can be noticed
But if I’m happy does it matter?
“I love you” triggers me but I want it
I need it because I’ve never felt it before
I can’t let go of it, it’s like I’m addicted
Yet allergic to self-love
I hold on to all the love I can get
From my friends or from anyone
I forget to love myself
But how could I when I can’t even look at myself?
I hate myself but yet wanna give myself a chance
“I love you, Iva”, I need to hear it from myself
Before I hear it from anyone
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