To be seen without performing…
like the moon, unbothered by applause,
standing whole in the dark
while oceans remember her name.
Or as a window left lit at midnight,
proof that someone is alive inside
without waving for passing cars.
To let my silence sit beside you
and still be answered,
like a prayer that never learned how to kneel
yet somehow reaches God.
To have my quiet land in you
the way snowfall lands on a city,
soft, relentless,
changing everything
without ever raising its voice.
To be missed without disappearing…
to exist so deeply in your bloodstream
that absence becomes a pulse,
that even when I am here,
you feel the shape of me longing.
To be enough without proving it…
not a resume of wounds,
but bare as a rib,
believed in before it learns how to shield itself…
just a heart laid open.
To be held without falling apart…
to rest my weight in your arms
and lean into you like a collapsing star
somehow not shattering the sky,
to let softness stay softness,
to not turn tenderness into a confession
or touch into evidence.
To be understood without explaining…
to have you read the pauses in my breath
the way fire reads oxygen,
the way tides read the moon…
no language, only inevitability.
To be wanted without conditions…
not “if you heal,”
not “if you stay easy,”
not “if you never bleed on the carpet,”
not kept like a promise that can be broken,
but wanted the way rain wants earth:
reckless, returning,
unasking…
without negotiations,
without apologies.
I don’t want to be spectacular.
I don’t want to be loud.
I don’t want to earn love
by becoming smaller or brighter or sharper,
by sanding myself down
until I’m safe to touch.
I want to be
the way dusk is…
arriving without announcement,
staying without justification,
leaving something warm behind
even after it’s gone.
I want to be
the name you breathe when you wake alone,
the echo your hands reach for in the dark,
the weight your heart expects
even when I am not there.
I want to be
the scar you protect from sunlight,
the tenderness you never weaponize.
Without translating my pain into poetry
just to deserve a place in your chest.
I want to be
the softness you don’t flinch from,
the presence you don’t measure.
Loved like something human,
not temporary.
I want to be…
without performing.
Without vanishing to be missed.
Just…
to be.
to be.
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