Existential Dread

Often I lie awake on my back and ask myself Would I be loved?
And would i be worth being loved by you 
ever?
someday?
Maybe?
And then I realise you exist, as the caricature of my quest
drawn in white on the void of my existence
Stark
unattainable
Rejectful
When I try to sleep, I often question myself of its worth
for nothing seems to change, everything still hurts
Sharp
persistently
Profusely
Would the sun rise again, and should it rise
would it matter for I am blinded in love of you
desolate
devastated
deprived
When sleep arrives dragging your thoughts back into my mind
I face down, weep, curl into a foetus, question my birth
vehemetly
violently
Vicarously