I think for a moment there I forgot what it felt like to be loved
To be something vulnerable, fragile
To feel delicate
Something, someone worthy of attention
Worth being held
And holding a place in someone’s heart.
Today, my mother looked at me, concern in her eyes, she said “you,re delicate”
And suddenly I recall now that before I became mine, I belonged to someone else
Self love alone may just be enough but to be loved wholly by someone other than yourself is infinite
Too busy trying to be something good enough for me, I may have forgotten what it felt like to be loved just as you are
To be broken, scarred, scared
And yet still treated like fine china.
To be wildly imperfect yet valuable, delicate, beautiful, worthy and most of all loved.