Spite. By Anuoluwapo kehinde
Love me in spite of the heartbreaks I’ve been through,
And the way I flinch when I hear you breathe in a little too deep,
Regardless of the amount of apologies I say for little mistakes
Like dropping cups from my anxious hands
And spilling tea on your brand new jeans.
Love me in spite of…
In spite of the way I forget to make a plate for you because I selfishly haven’t eaten
And you end up carrying me out of bed to feed me a bowl of rice whilst I protest
I know it’s not my duty to make sure you’re fed, I’m not your mother but neither is it yours to be mine.
I know it’s not what you signed up for, everyday, making sure I’m okay enough to get through another day.
I’m old enough to make my own meals and get out of bed but I’m not well enough to live.
So love me in spite of the headaches and migraines, the vacuum in my mind days, the shame that won’t go away, the darkness that has come here to stay.
Love me in spite of the open marriage to myself and my illness, the good and the evil, the hurricane in the middle
Love me in spite of everything
After all the forgiving and forgetting, healing and regretting, love me in spite of all the pain I brought you
I never intended for my condition to reach you, contagious like a new virus flu, the type that keeps you bed bound for days, days on end.
Love me in spite of it all.