Self Love

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We're all shattered souls needing to shine. We fall and we rise. We ache and we smile. We're all sad faces unable to cry. We break and we heal. We scream only to falter again.

Self love. That's what they have been drilling in our heads. in our souls. in our veins. What is "self love"?
Is it crying throughout the night. Is it the bags under the eyes. Is it the ache in the middle of the chest. Or is it all of the above?
What is "self love"? Is it size zero. Is it a thigh gap. Is it high cheekbones. Or is it a group of hypocrite friends?

What is this self love thing? Is it loving yourself so you can be capable of loving someone else?!
I call bullshit. I have loved everyone around me long before I knew what it means to love myself.
I have always known that loving someone is the power to grow flowers out of toxic weed.

What means does it conquer if I break with thunder and emerge with sunrise but love that brown eyed boy with all I have.
What madness is self love when I cry on the floor of my bathroom but run in my mother's arms at the first given chance.

Who in their right mind made up this self love thing, when humans were made to shatter and burn. When the sun loses it's color and the moon cries till it heaves.
We were not made to be perfect. We were not made to always bloom.
There's winter in the human body where everything dies and strength is what waters the dead sides.

So don't you dare tell me to love myself before I give my love to anyone I deem worthy. because this self love is nothing but a temporary feeling that comes and goes, a season that begins and ends.

I have the right to love even when the field of roses inside my ribcage has burnt out.

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