How To Be Loved

I need to learn, how to be loved.

Somewhere in me, the pleasure, carries pain.

I am learning, slowly, how to be loved.

And its, grazed knees, and mud on my face.

I’m the broken ballerina, finding soul, and nodding my head,

Finding the base from an African drum, can still carry my feet.

Finding, I’ve found a steadier beat. . . Momentarily

Finding my heels,

In a world that asks of me, only tippy toes.

Im, learning how to be loved, evolving,

Learning how to feel whole, not just whole hearted,

Giving and keeping enough of me,

So that affections don’t have to feel like

Im robbing me.

I do, rob me.

…

Take off garments to feel like I’m being generous

Enough

To feel enough,

I silence bits of me,

To fit into,

Shoes, that don’t breath enough,

To let me walk,

Then look up, adoringly,

Hoping someone will receive,

All the sacrifice in my  love.

But.

I’m learning how to be loved,

    I need to,

Every grain of me should teach me to,

have I not been loved before?

Am I not a center of adorations.

Am I not doted on,

Wanted?

Always.

So why is it so difficult to be, love,

when the love comes from me?

I think, I see,

I’m learning, how to be loved by me,

Slowly.

I am,

Loved.

I am,

Learning.