dying to be loved.

your roots are growing deeper with every morning sun

but at least you’re growing

and flourishing

you have come so far 

you no longer care what that boy thinks of you,

despite how he consumed every thought and fantasy.

you can finally look in the mirror without crying

to all the songs you used to listen to together

you are sunkissed by warm rays of light

but you’ve still been drowning in a treacherous storm,

for as long as you’ve been able to form memories.

through an oxygen starved brain

and collapsing lungs,

with every single anxiety attack.

you can tell your heart is still bleeding,

dying,

to be loved.

• loved
• original poem
• poem
• poetry