By John Edmondson

Rest your head on my lap
Cry those familiar tears
I’ll caress your head
While you ignore what’s best.

His hand is strong
Full of projected wrath
He doesn’t mean it
Yet you feel the intent in his hand.

Your tolerance level is numb
Ignoring your limit
You stay
Afraid of the unknown.

When will you love yourself
More than you love him?
When will you love yourself
More than he loves you?

It’s not selfish
To love yourself
No need for concealer
You’re stronger than that hand.