on loving my anxious heart [poem]

I hate to say it love
but you’re going to need the patience of a saint
because loving me will suck
sometimes
my damaged pieces are all glued back together
but I’m still lost on the darker days
I still feel hollow and unworthy
sometimes
there are too many scars
I can’t ignore the way it stings
when I get too comfortable
my anxious heart
looking behind every word for a catch
treating every person as a liar
sometimes
it’s so automatic
I don’t even realize I’m doing it until
I can’t breathe for wanting reassurance
that this is real
that you’re still here
that I am lovable
sometimes
if you say it loud enough
I might even believe it