Someone tell me you love me. Tell me you love me without reserve. Tell me something good something I can hang onto. Tell me you’ll hang onto me even when I prove imperfect. Tell me that the damage isn’t too great. Tell me that I have the right to ask this to ask without begging to live without forgiveness. Give me a chance to breathe. Grant me rest. But these things are not yours to give, they are mine to find. Or to stumble across. Just tell me that you love me so I have something to possess my mind as I limp along.