Maybe I just can’t see it

My ego only allows
LOVE to come to me
in a particular way.

You say you love me for my sense of humor?
That can’t be!
You must love me for my money.
Or my beauty.
Or my efficiency.
You must!

Don’t love me
In ways I was
never appreciated for.
I won’t be able to see it.
I won’t appreciate it.
I won’t believe you.

If you want to love me, then play by my rules.
(The rules I was brought up with).
Love me for reasons
I’ve already sanctioned.

I won’t let love in from anywhere else.
And I won’t let it out, either.

All I have to show
from my age-old search
are these limited windows,
these tried and true drugs:
my beauty, my smarts, my honesty.
I don’t know how to
let myself be loved
for just being here,
for just showing up,
for things I didn’t know
I had, or was, or did.

Loved for
When will I learn?

What if I wake up in
a world without windows,
without walls,
without dark blots on
this infinite sun?
A world where love
can get through to
my eager, guarded heart
from everywhere
from anywhere.

A world
in short
without my

A world

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