Worthy of Love

Even as you lay 

on the ground

soaked in vodka

or whisky

or wine

or brandy

or whatever

ethanol you had

just picked up

from the shop 

opposite.

Even as you lay 

passed out

in the front of that 

tiny hotel

tiny but decent

except for the drunk 

at its doorstep

Even then you 

felt worthy of love

a person

and not a creature

to be pitied 

or shunned.

You cried out

upon waking

demanding a hearer

demanding affection

demanding all that 

had been promised

You never felt unworthy

even as you lay on the ground, twitching

wretched

but unashamed.

And eventually

you found someone

who was sweet and forgiving

who married you

and lived with you

for a few years

and who eventually

sent you home

in an urn.

But you remained married

until you died

which is what you intended

and all you ever wanted.

And when I looked on you

with such disgust

and contempt

I didn't know 

that you, even you,

in all your brokenness

lying in your own puddle 

of urine and vomit

had something teach me.

I, who have never felt worthy,

no matter what I did,

no matter how I tried,

no matter what I achieved,

of love.