from as far back as she can remember,
it has always been there.
as if she conceived, carried and birthed it,
it was always in the air.

indescribable and unbearable,
she knew she had to let it go.
numbing and draining,
she knew she wasn't going to survive.

but who does she tell
when she doesn't even know what it is.
how does she walk away
when its claws are hellbent on gripping onto her heart?

often she'd "find love",
or so she thought.
or even worse,
she'd search for love.

love would chuckle
then send her into a state of pain.
crying became her religion
and the box of Kleenex besides her lamp her bible.

she never stopped searching
because to her if it wasn't love that she needed then it was approval.
approval from the world;
approval from someone!

that too wasn't the answer,
obviously!
she lost her willpower one night;
she wasn't searching anymore.

she finally realised that all her life she was fighting,
fighting for something she didn't need to fight for.
it finally dawned upon her
that what she was feeling was a void.

a void constructed from and perpetuated by self-doubt,
and the never ending need of acceptance from others.
a void that can only be filled by self-love,
acceptance and the maturity of understanding that she doesn't need to be perfect! Ever !