"here’s the thing:
i think i could love you
really hard. i truly do.
i use to pinch my skin,
rub it raw,
hoping that my exterior would fade
and my mother would always hold my hands in hers and say,
“baby, you know it’s what’s on the inside that counts.”
you see, i know i’m not much.
my fingers are too bony and my lip always quivers
even when it’s the middle of summer.
i talk too loud in cinemas and
too quiet in front of microphones.
i have a thick skin, and terrible tan lines,
and my hands tremble when i cry.
i never seem to stay in one place
but most of the time i never quite know
where i’m heading.
i know i’m not much to look at
but i’ve been told that i’ve got a heart
almost as deep as the pacific ocean and
i’ll love you with every inch of it,
if you’ll let me.
here’s the thing:
when i love, i love hard
because i have never believed in
doing things half-heartedly.
i’m going to love you with every corner of me.
this is my heart.
i know it’s not much but
it’s all i’ve got."
a.y // this is all that i have