Sometimes I think I do not belong to exist.
This can be because existing is too difficult to deal with.
That it would be easier to clink some pills into my hand
And chug, chug, chug my way through the sweet,
Vomit-inducing flavour of paracetamol.

This can be because I feel as if I do not deserve the life I am living.
That the opportunities my family has given me,
Helped me gain,
Are something I am not worthy of.
That the conversations I have had with my friends
Were not meant to be heard by me
Because I cannot help them
And if I cannot help them then I have no worth.

I am not worthy
Because these things would be better spent
In the hands of someone happier.
Someone who knows how to use them.
How to live better than I ever could.
Sometimes I think I do not deserve my family,
Or my friends.

I care for them too much
To burden them with all of me.
There is too much of me.
Too much stuck in me to be cared for or to be loved.

But then you find a book for me.
Or an artist you know I will adore.
You send me photos of our pets being stupid,
And of the sunsets in your part of the country.

And I realise I have spent too much time away from you
As it meant forgetting how much you think of me.
You think of me often, and fondly.
You would keep thinking of me
Until you were able to hug me, touch me,
I miss my ankles brushing against your calf
At the dinner table,
I miss your elbow poking into my stomach
When we all cram onto the couch,
I miss being able to talk to you
Without distance blocking the way.

You help me learn that I belong to exist because I belong to love.
I belong to the sun and it’s twisting rhythm around us.
I am allowed to dance with the wind and laugh at the rain.
I exist for nothing more than to smile at the moon
And carry tired bees safely to new flowers.

If I cannot take the love for myself,
Then I can be content in it,
And share it with the things around me.