It isn’t me that you like or even want. You count me as nothing forgetting my value and discounting my worth.
It isn’t me that you see but my past; a me that never was or even could be. Distorted by the lack of love that you offer; poison by your envy and sting by your words.
It isn’t me you dream of. I am but a nightmare, a monster in the night. Storm on your sunny day, the one that easily wipes your smile away.
It is me I see. A reflection of courage, wrapped in passion and decisiveness. I am an image of divine grace and abounding love. It is me who sees you and never flinches. It is me who never hides what I think you deserve.
It is just my luck that you are blind and cannot see me as I see me or you at that. How regrettable is your love and how lonely are your arms.
It is me that I see. Strong when crushed, determined when disappointed. Patient in love.
It is me that sees you for all your worth and never flinches or held any form of hurt.
I see me and am in love. If only you could see what I see, you too would be in love.