Your arms are covered with scars, but I love you.

Your heart is tainted, but I love you.

Your mind is filled with darkness much deeper than mine, but I love you.

Your soul is broken beyond repair, but I love you.

Although you don't notice my constant stare or believe that we're the perfect pair, I love you.

And to think that someone broke you once ago makes me feel like I'm choking on the very air that fills my lungs day after day.

Some may thing that love is blind, personally I think we're too kind.

To kind to let beautiful people waste their time on hopeless, charity cases like ourselves.

To kind to give any love to ourself and instead project it from our tainted soul.

To kind to let people know about our daily struggle so instead we silently stumble.

Your arms are covered with scars, but I love you.

Your heart is tainted, but I love you.

Your mind is filled with darkness much deeper than mine, but I love you.

Your soul is broken beyond repair, but I love you.*

You're too kind, but still I love you.

What has the world done?
Made us all slaves.
To the one thing we try to become.
That we think will solve anything but solves nothing at all.
This is the downfall.

I am confident
I am beautiful
I am radiant
I am delightful
I am strong
I am committed
I am talented
and I am not a quitter
I am friendly
I am proud
I am funny
and I am loud
I am smart
I am sweet
I am lovable
I am impossible to beat
I am strange
I am weird
I am different
and I don't care
I am serious
I am caring
and I never judge people by what they are wearing
I am a dreamer
I am a friend
I am a girlfriend who is faithful until the end
I am active
I am free
I refuse to be another stereotype
I choose to be me

We feel better when the sky owns up to the bleakness of the world; it turns grey and endless and it cries with us. We hide from the sun because it warms our skin and lies about a better tomorrow. Ice bites our noses and rattles our teeth- it makes us feel alive but it too, is swallowed by the warmth we have taught ourselves to hate. We are fighting for happiness but waiting for the warmth and the flush and the laughter to end, that we might envelope ourselves once more in our depression, anxiety and pain.
But I am tired of my cocoon of misery; this atmosphere filled with the sensation of waiting for rain. You three are my best friends. I have made an astonishing number of mistakes in my life but loving you is not one of them.

So I will wait for rain with you.

**And I will revel in the sun when you find it.