I Hope This Finds You

“Love yourself.” The walls whisper.

I toss one way, see it written on the moon, turn the other and find it staring back at me from within the darkness of my room.

“Love yourself.” They tell me, putting flowers in my hair to make me feel delicate and pretty but I vehemently shake them all away.

“Love yourself.” The pamphlet reads, my shoulders slumping in defeat.

I have been on an endless search for me. I have been traveling my dreams, picking up pieces like items of clothing to see if they fit.

Is this me? Are you me? Am I You?

I told myself traveling through the shadows would be easy, would reveal me to me, would put me closer to loving me.

“Love yourself.” My shadow says, pushing me deeper into the recesses of where I’ve never been.

But I am clinging for familiarity, gathering up old pieces I was told I could not keep, fearing how deep the journey will take me.

“Love yourself.” My spirit reads.

So I stay on the midnight express, hoping to recognize me when I find me.

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