Love is a hard word for you too, isn’t it?

The baggage that comes with love

It’s too much or at least it has been

Am I worthy of love?

Am I good enough?

Asked everyone as if it mattered

I don’t believe what they say either way

“I love you”, they say but is it true?

Or is it all a lie?

Of course, it’s a lie, it always is

No, I know they love me but would they if they saw me?

If they knew everything about me?

There goes my brain again, it spirals 

Can’t control it or don’t want to I guess

If I’m sad then I can be important

If I’m suffering then I can be noticed

But if I’m happy does it matter?

“I love you” triggers me but I want it

I need it because I’ve never felt it before

I can’t let go of it, it’s like I’m addicted 

Yet allergic to self-love

I hold on to all the love I can get 

From my friends or from anyone

I forget to love myself

But how could I when I can’t even look at myself?

I hate myself but yet wanna give myself a chance

“I love you, Iva”, I need to hear it from myself

Before I hear it from anyone