Being me, I don't know what that means| poetry

Being me.

Being me
I don’t know what that means
Stretching myself into the unknown 
Until it hurts to be seen

Resting my fears in your consciousness 
While finding you means loosing me 
I wonder- if the space in my heart for what is right grows,
Will there be any hand left to hold

Can a person grow an understanding so profound
that they love themselves within the realm of mistrust?

If I can be one thing,
I hope it is to heal 
A part of your truest self by letting you know,
Heaven is with you on your loneliest steps towards a self 
that you only heard speaking in your most hated symptoms.

If there were no rules,
Who would you be?
Tell me what makes your heart glisten,
Tell me about the places you visit at night.
If no one has visited them first,
Will I find you at the shores of unconditional embrace
Ready to head off into the sunset towards a gentle voice and a faithful smile?

There will never be a moment you will sail into darkness and come out alone.
If choosing you was an act of kindness,
I’d have lost passionate love.

Being surrounded by so much slumber,
I understand why your heart is freezing while your mind is running 
to find a friend in the ocean,
A sister in their tents,
A bed in their presence,
While your heart is in defence.