I want you to get to know me,
to pull me aside, in your chestnut cardigan,
and ask me how I'm doing.
To hear your voice instruct me
on how to be present,
as we take deep breaths together
and soothe the cacophony
of our tangled thoughts.
I search for someone like you
when I'm doing the most mundane tasks,
but I fear, if I rely on you,
entrusting you with my vulnerabilities,
I will become too dependent.
If I visit you often,
in a room with royal blue wallpaper
and wooden partitions and blazing
sandalwood candles,
if I let you see me step away
from the careful calculations...
if we sit in silence and discomfort
and you help me acknowledge it,
then you leave,
who will I run to when I need to feel safe?
I fear, no matter my age,
that I will always seek a place
free from harm;
growing up meant wanting to run away
at the slightest sound,
home synonymous with flashing red lights.
I need someone like you
to steady me,
but I never want to be seen
as broken, or less than.
I summon you in the recesses
of my mind, when everything
buzzes around me, yet,
you can't go everywhere with me.
And I hate that sometimes, I
wonder if you're even real.
