My Own Arms

I waited years for someone to choose me,
to hold me close and finally see me.
I searched for love in every face,
and found an empty, echoing place.

Then one gray morning, by the sea,
I stopped — and truly looked at me.
The eyes that cried, the hands that shook,
were worth the gentlest second look.

So now I hold myself at last,
and I forgive me for the past.
No waiting rooms, no closed-up doors —
the love I craved was always yours.

Mine. All mine. And it was free —
the arms I needed were holding me.

The love you've been waiting for is already yours. 🤍