You’ve all taught me that it’s perfectly acceptable

To not be okay.

You tell me that 

I can wear my pain on my skin 

And I can fear all sorts of things,

And you’ll accept me anyways.

You made me understand that those who are broken

Deserve the most love and praise.

What about those who are happy? 

Do they not deserve love or tenderness?

Must they resign themselves to darkness to feel cared for?

I want someone just once to say

That I shouldn’t feel bad for

Being okay.