How far would you love me
if I stripped it all away,
sold off all my attachments,
achievements—
would you love, love me at my most plain state?
With no strings attached?

Would you hold my hand
and tell me:
"It's okay, you're more than your accolades"?
Look at me straight in the eyes, you accept me,
and my cracks, in my skin.

Would you help me get back
the map to who I want to be—
go on the road trip to finding
my true self?

When the sun sets down
and I heal,
would you still keep me...

if I had nothing to give you,
only able to give the things
that no one ever wanted?

Would you hold my hand
while I break down
and say I’m nothing
without the things
that I gave away?

Would you still look at me as—

Enough—

Enough to help me clean up
this mess I've made?

Today, tomorrow,
would you still—
love me,
still think
I’m smart,
handsome—
even if I have nothing
to show, to give?

Would you still look at me
like i was different,
even though—
all my trees are chopped down?

Brush, and hold my hand
like nothing ever fell apart,
the grass wasn't as green—
as it used to be.

Hold my hand,
never let go
while we hike
up this mountain toghther.