Part II of my III part poem.
I was just figuring out what love was.
I wanted them to love me.
But I was a spectacle.
I was the monkey going after the bananas.
I was the entertainment.
Working for love was the only way I could protect myself and be loved.
If I didn't do what they wanted me to do, I would suffer the consequences.
Their ideas of love were messed up.
And mine became messed up too.
I was ridiculed for everything I said and did, and so I had to escape my body.
I blame them but not hatefully.
I just know that I've never known pure love.
I've been acting as if I have something to prove to everyone else.
If I'm competing for love then that isn't love.
I am learning to love all the parts of me, and all of the phases.
Running from myself is a part of me.
Competing is a part of me too.
I can no longer repress the sensations I feel in my body, created out of fear.
Even though the moon has phases, it is still the moon.
Even though trees lose their leaves, they are still trees.
The universe teaches me how to not be phased by the change and to look for the deeper truth.
My parts reveal themselves and I may question who I am, but then I remember that it is all me.