I am hard to love!
Yes it's true, I know it's hard
I see your struggles I know you're going far
For demons inside my mind are now
Just starting to get a little wild somehow
I am hard to love
I am hard to love
It's okay you are not on the wrong here anyways
That ignorance I felt I know wasn't true
The silence I get, I know my demons brew
My heart just pounds, my hands shake always
But why is that your problem always?
A smile on my face, is rare sight
My stuttering words but, find ways to get out
I am hard to love
I am hard to love
So I lock myself up, until I cannot see myself
It's painful to see you try, it's painful that I cry
But after all that I do, I still wonder why
So fragile I am, a dandelion you might think
The shards I have, are churning but never sink
I want to be held, to be kept warm always
I know it's delusional thinking at its best
As I pen it down, I look at the stars and think
Am I Hard to love
Am I Hard to love!
How should I even start?
I know you have been trying hard, I don’t say that to make things better between us. But I know. It’s not your fault that I am hard to love. It’s not easy loving me. A wrecking ball hanging by the thread on your head. My outbursts are attempts to show you what I need.
But even I know it’s hard to fulfill these. I am hard to love I know. No, I don’t need you to be by my side all the time. I know I get in my shell even at the slightest change of tone. I know I undo my conversations and sometimes just go rouge.
Sometimes a slight muscle spasm can send me spiraling. If it were up to me, I’d check into an asylum. Loving me is never easy, I am never demanding but always.
Loving me is like having a dandelion in your hand. You cannot breathe too loud or it will break. Your pace needs to be slow or it will just go away.
Loving me is the autumn leaves falling but not the sound they make under the feet.
Loving me is the summer where people only die of heat.
Loving me is the winter that kills the power and people as well.
Loving me is spring, but that’s just in my head.
Loving me is red, the red of blood that I boil.
Loving me is yellow, the yellow of pale you always get.
Loving me is the slope of a mountain where people fall.
Loving me is the sound of a river that just takes more and more.
Loving me is a journey, but there’s no petals but thorns.
Loving me is hardly breathing, because of anxiety and all.
Loving me is the walk in rain, until it floods everything around.
Loving me is cutting onion, every peel makes you cry.
Loving me is quiet easy, if only I can ignore my demons!
Loving me is hell and everything in between!
