Self-love

Being small, it is my mother and father

Being a little older, it is a boy who pulls my hair

Being old enough to attend high school, it is the boy who teaches me that love truly hurts

Being as old as I am now, it is myself.

Past love does not define

nor does it erase the hurt I felt

But I am so glad I have the cards I have been dealt

Because without the struggle

I would not have ever found that I am worth more than double

And though loving you was more than divine

I would much rather be kind

And love myself more so my heart will never, ever be entwined

With love that showers more so than shines.