they say to be in love
you must first love yourself
as for me I disagree
because I have met body upon body
that I've fallen in love with
just by looking in to their eyes
while somehow hating mine
waging war upon myself
all while finding refugee and comfort
in a body, in any body or anybody
who smiled in my direction
who held the door open
who said, 'i'm worried about you' or
'text me when you get home safely' or
'well you were asking for it'.

and isn't love beautiful?
the way it creeps up your spine
tickles the back of your neck
curls around and tightens so slowly
that you don't realize the suffocation
until you're already blue in the face?
using your first gasping breath to declare
how romantic it was to be so close to it

love can be found anywhere
like a dim light in the darkest room or
the  haunting face of danger in those nightmares
that have plagued you since you were sixteen
when you had your heart broken
for the first time and you cried
but then the second, the third
you learned to smile

mistaking the scar tissue for satisfaction
for justification of your hurt
'well at least i could say i tried'
and god knows you tried
to fill that aching, hollow chest of need
with words synonymous with love
in the dictionary of your excuses
re-arranged to make anything
fit the definition of everything
that 4 letter word should be
just so you can convince yourself
battle with your own beating chest
was never in vain.

-- they do not love you.