PHOTO BY PIXABAY
Love me at my worst, With my hair frizzled out. And my dress slightly torn; Roses seem to fade away.
Will you hold me close? When my wrinkles don't show? The dawn may never come, If silence consumes the night.
Look into my eyes, Grasp on to my wretched soul. You know my every inch, Help me conquer this darkness.
Bitter at my worst, Your tender love can heal. It makes me want to be, The greatest version... of me. (c) Monica St Hillaire.