I've heard stories about people,
And them falling in love,
I've been told that I could be one,
Only if I'm whole.
But I fear it may never happen,
For I've been through hell,
One of my own creation,
But the horror is very real.
And the scars and burdens of my past,
Make me weary, make me crack,
When all I have is dreaming,
I can't help myself.
I want a love of my own,
A safe haven, to guide me through the storm,
A reason to smile when times are low,
And never ever to feel lonesome.
But I fear I ask for too much,
For I cannot reveal my mishappen soul,
I cannot break more than I already have,
I cannot hurt or put burden to another self.
In the midst of my self destruction,
Would you still take me if I'm broken?
If I'm bruised, marred and fallen?
Would you love me even then?
The hope, though futile as it may be,
Carries me forward to wherever may be,
When my self is whole and I'd be ready,
For love and you and the rest of living.
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