You are worth getting blisters for
And losing precious sleep
You are worth waiting in the cold
And listening to music I hate
Reading books that make me sad
And the empty pangs of need
Spending money I can’t afford
Feeling too anxious to eat.
You are worth every reckless thought
And every hopeful dream
The inevitable disappointments
The teenage tongue-tied squirming
Agonizing over every word. Giving meaning to silence. And glances.
I expect nothing, because I love this kind of pain
I can stomach this, and so much more, not to feel numb again.