Growing up without love
You never get over the suspicion
That you are inherently unloveable.
It is always there
That voice whispering
“of course, what did you expect.”
You wait for rejection
When the anticipation is too much
It’s easier to walk away
We work ourselves up to likeable never expecting love
But still feel greedy when we want more.
Don’t push the voice warns
You may slide back down
And have to start apologizing for breathing all over again.
I tack up the slogans on my bulletin board
LOVE yourself first
Feel GOOD about yourself
You are SPECIAL.
Too soon I grow bored with my
flaccid internal cheerleader.
And circle back to fear.