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. 🤍