If You're Going to Love Me

If you're going to love me babe I just wanted to give you a heads up
A heads up as to why I am the way I am
And what you're leaping into when you decided to say those three words
So this is for you, from me, as serious as I can be because I just want to clarify what you really mean when you say you love me

When you say you love me, do you love the part of me plagued by mental illness?
The part that can spend days in bed, fearing and wishing I were dead only to be lifted by periods of euphoria and happiness, not knowing where the line is between stop and go?

Or do you love the part of me that's filled with imperfections, a mess no mop has come to pick up
The kind that stays around until someone notices

Do you love the part of me that's broken?  The kind words no longer fix, except well maybe yours, but only enough to sweep up some of the shattered pieces picked up in your hands

Or do you love the part of me that forgets birthdays and obligations,
Avoiding participation because my social anxiety is telling me so
Telling me I'm worthless compared to you
And everyone else

So babe please, when you tell me you love me do you mean all of me or just the things people want to see?

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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