It's wrong.
That saying
The, "No one can love you until you learn to love yourself."
It's incorrect.
Senseless even.

You don't have to love yourself to have someone do the same.
In fact,
I think it's the people who don't love themselves
Are loved the most.

Others see their hurt
And reach out
Open their hearts

Let feelings of
Concern
Appreciation
Respect
Friendship

Love.
Enter in

The self-loathing one just doesn't know.
Or doesn't want to

They're blind
Eyes covered by a blindfold
Held securely in place by
Doubt
Fear
Hate
Anger
Regret
A past where something
Sometime
Lots of times
Went awry.

They can't trust themselves
Or anyone else because of that.

It's not easy to love someone like this.
It takes
Work
Determination
Persistence
Many different things

Some people will throw in the towel
Say it's too hard
Not worth it
But not everyone

A select few will stick around and love The loveless person
Shower them in appreciation
Cover them with love

So, don't think for
One
Single
Second
That you aren't loved

You are.

By me.
By others.
By God.

And all of us will be here
When you finally remove
The caked on
Mud
Dirt
The blinding debris
From experiences past

We will be here

When you can finally see just what about yourself is worth loving.

Each word strikes me like a sharp blade
I see spots and sway on my feet
They echo in my head
For days I won’t be able to eat
I wonder if it’s genuine
The disgust in your eyes
It won't bring me comfort
To know that they were lies
Why are you so angry?
What did I do to you?
I realized all of a sudden
I feel sorry for *you

You were almost the one.
You almost loved me.
We almost made it.
We almost had the time of our lives.
I almost understood the five heartbreaks before you.
I was almost content with how the constellations looked down on us.

*but almost never got anyone anywhere

Sing your praises on high
to long since deafened ears.

Build monuments to your sins
of all the bloodshed and tears.

From cultures wiped out
on your righteous crusades.

Just like the Druids
your religions will fade.

There are no gods to save you,
no one to hear your pleas.

So unclasp your hands,
get off your knees.

People need saving
yet we sit idly by.

Whispering to the clouds,
waiting to die.