Sometimes it’s what I don’t say that becomes my obstacle to love.
What I don’t say…
is that I am afraid you will really see me.
That you will look into my abis and know the places I’ve cracked open and bled.
What I don’t say….
Is that I actually long for you to see me.
Past the glassy stare of a fractured piece
to look into my joy.
Merging with you,
the likes of you,
the bliss of you,
in hopes….
of recognizing me.
Charlotte Scott
