Questions

Sometimes I feel too me,

Too much.

An apology rises in me for this,

But words can never wrap

and clothe the haunting hurt

To understand why 

Who I am is wrong somehow.

What am I sorry for?

Why do I feel so deeply?

Does who I am matter?

I search for the answer,
To where I belong.

The pain is in the silence,

And the silence replies in kind,

Bringing a settling peace.

Without an answer,

I change the question...

How can I love better,

especially love me better,

and let go of the fear...and accept

I am enough as I am,

Despite weakness, fear, and longing.

I am enough to be loved,

Stripped down of all striving.

Love is peace, kindness, and free

As much as I love others, I should also love me.

This is my most vulnerable poem ever. I wrote it from a deep place of longing. Sometimes I feel like who I am isn't enough, or it is too much for anyone to love. Now I remind myself that even in my greatest moments of vulnerability, I am still worthy of good love and great love and kind love. Loving others with the right kind of love, and loving myself, is a lifelong journey of letting go and trusting and accepting. 

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails." - 1 Cor. 13:4-8