when you say you love me,
do you actually love me?
or just the parts of me that are easy to love?
i know it's easy to love the way i draw you
or the way i kiss you in-between mouthfulls of ice cream
when i'm singing out of tune to my favorite songs in the car
or when i'm dancing to justin timberlake in my room
but can you also love my broken, ragged pieces?
can you love my trust issues, brought on by a mother who couldn't stay
and a father who couldn't control his temper?
can you love the part of me that is scared of you raising your voice
because where i grew up, that meant fists would be thrown?
can you love the part of me that breaks down?
the part of me that ignores you for weeks, that refuses to leave my room?
and what about the damaged skin lining my wrist?
can you love the part of me that isn't fun?
the part of me that is overly cautious, because i've seen too much?
can you love me?
