would you love (me)?

june 30, 2012 at 5:14am

 

would you love me

if i smelled?

would you love me

if i starved?

would you love me

if i picked and plucked and cut and hurt myself

until

i could bleed and squirm and cry no more?

would you?

could you?

come on!

i beg of you

i beseech you

i lock my always teary

ever-bleary

clearly weary

migraine-wounded

eyes at you

don’t sugar coat it

don’t wiggle or worm or squirm your ever-so-beautiful mind away from that divine light of that all-too-painful truth

PLEASE!

“come on,” i scream.

“don’t sweetalk to me.”

i implore you

would you?

could you?

will you?

please

please just tell me

level with me

please?

please!

i want the truth

the whole truth

the absolute truth

and nothing but

i mean

NOTHING BUT

the truth!

“yes? no?”

please

i am begging you

from the very bottom

from the deepest, darkest depths of my always aching heart

those bottomless craters

no….

caverns

of my all-too-often grieving,

forever sinking,

ever unblinking,

infinitely unseemly,

supershredded

supershattered

soul

would you love me

if i convulsed

every time you reached out

in a truly sincere attempt

at comfort and affection?

would you love me

if i cried

each and every time

you tried

to hold me?

to console me?

to cajole me?

would you?

could you?

will you?

for real?

seriously.

i need

to know.

or else

with total desperation,

i’ll call out.

i will f*cking scream!

in point of fact,

you know i will

and it will be

a

screech

a

shriek

an uncontrollably bombastic

shout

louder than i siren

at

6:15 a.m.

louder than

a jet

flying

over

head

seriously.

i plead with you.

do tell.

please?

would you love me

if i never said “i love you,” even when you knew my adoration was unending,

undying,

and much, much more

than enormous?

would you?

could you?

huh?

again, i need to know.

i have to know.

i am begging you.

would you love me

if i forgot

your most cherished little secrets

amongst my relentless,

overwhelming,

always so uncomfortably unending

days and months and years

of ever-so-nihilistic anger,

self-hate,

and deepest, darkest, depression?

would you?

could you?

will you?

please?

come on!

tell me.

would you love me

if my only real talent

was a dying, underpaid,

underappreciated, rarely celebrated,

some might say, “stupid” or “silly,”

semi-demi-art?

would you? could you?

why on earth should you ever put up with all that?

“why?” i wonder.

“why?”

in all of my honesty,

i don’t

i simply

do not understand

how and why

you so powerfully,

so graciously,

so unselfishly,

give me

so much incredibly, indelibly, amazingly

unconditional

love

but, you do.

and for that, i am forever grateful.

you have my utter admiration

my complete adoration

and my utterly broken,

my barely functional dedication.

most of all,

you have my boundless appreciation,

and

my ever-growing

ever-expanding

ever-perplexing

love

yes.

“love.”

© 2012 by ariana sexton-hughes

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