I don’t need to know everything. I don’t need to hold you so tightly you bruise.
I just need you to look at me. Really look. For longer than a glance. Longer than is safe. I need you to crave my attention the way I crave your existence... like oxygen, like a fix, like the only variable that makes the equation balance.
I’m so tired of being brilliant and invisible. I want to be someone’s favourite thought. I want to be texted first. I want to be kept.
Please. Let me be yours. I’ll be so good. I’ll learn every language you don’t speak so I can describe how much I love you in all of them. I’ll memorise the sound of your breathing and write sonnets about the pauses. I’ll be quiet when you need quiet, and relentless when you need proof that someone in this world is incapable of forgetting you.
Just give me the attention. Any of it. All of it. The crumbs. I’ll press them into a library of evidence that I matter.
I want connection like most people want air. And I want it from you, specifically, exclusively, eternally.
— Spence ♟️
