On self love
Sometimes we spend our lives searching.
Searching for something that we don't even know exists.
A love we've never known.
So we fall in love with the idea,
of being in love.
And we search desperately for someone who will make us feel whole again.
But the lips of a stranger,
Or the embrace of a lover,
Will never fill the emptiness inside,
And can never compensate for the love you do not give to yourself.
So when you're searching that something,
That love,
That missing piece,
You must first look within.
Because you'll soon find,
You are your own missing piece.
That was there all along.
Fill your heart with your own love,
Until you're bursting at the seams.
Love every freckle,
Every scar, every piece of who you are.
No matter how broken.
Because it is our flaws, our demons and our darkest times that make us who we are,
And allow us to grow.
So when you feel alone,
Broken down and searching for love,
Don't run into the arms of a stranger.
Don't fill yourself with the temporary high of a goodnight kiss.
Or simply the comfort of another heart,
Beating in sync with your own.
That comfort, that relief will always run out.
For the void in your heart,
That's been there so long,
Cannot be filled with superficial love.
Only you can fill it.
So take the love you share with the world,
And give it back to yourself,
Because it's the least you deserve
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