What I need is to be loved

by Tope | shared on He Said, She Said |

Set it in stone
Even if it takes me until dawn, I won’t shut these eyes
I’ll use up all the words that can be used in place of your name or whatever it is that I call you
Moao, Mhal, Mylove, Kalimo, Tayan, My—what else?
I don’t care how many stanzas it will take me
But I can’t let these words linger inside me any longer
So I promise
This is the last poem I will ever write for you

I’ll start from the beginning
With the way you smiled at me and asked where I live
You didn’t notice the cobwebs on the wall
You weren’t bothered by the cockroaches that suddenly arrived with your visit
And you didn’t even give a glance toward the books beside my bed that were asleep too, and were my only companions then

I’ll start from the beginning
With the way you hugged me when I told you “I love you”
And the way you kissed my forehead and said “you’re important to me”
And here I am, this idiot, overjoyed in my ignorance
Not knowing that I don’t want to be “important”
I don’t want to be “important” anymore

I’m not some antique mirror that you’ve owned forever
That you only look at to remind yourself that you’re beautiful
I don’t want to be “important”

I’m not some cell phone that you snatch up from your pocket when you need answers after losing your grip in a world that’s far too vast to give you any attention
I don’t want to be “important”

I’m not some necklace that you just wear on certain occasions
In situations when you feel like you’re not good enough

I’m not just something you can throw in a box at night in fear that you’ll suffocate from my embrace while you’re fast asleep
Or something that you can just toss into another box to put away in the corner of a closet because you’re afraid that someone else might steal me
I don’t want to be “important”

What I want is to be loved
What I need is to be loved

I need you to love me like you’re morning coffee
Accepting the sweet and the bitter
Needing it for its heat, but not setting it aside just because its gone cold

I need you to love me like your own office
You know exactly what things are for
You know exactly where things are tucked away
You know exactly where I hide my knives, tools, dirt, secrets…knives, tools, dirt, secrets

I need you to love me like your pillow at night
That you hug in the cold
That you rest your head on even if it’s hot
That you whisper your most hidden dreams to
I don’t want to be “important”

What I want is to be loved
What I need is to be loved

And I used to write before in hopes that you would love me too
So forgive me, but I will keep writing until I use up all the words that can be used in place of your name
Forgive me, but I will keep writing so you can forgive me

Because once upon a time, someone told me that a person who doesn’t know how to forgive won’t be able to write
So, love, with this opportunity
With this last opportunity, I will write a poem for you

Let’s make a pact
I will forgive you, but you have to forgive me too
Forgive me for not calming down, and I will forgive you for not crying
Forgive me for not shutting up, and I will forgive you not saying a thing
Forgive me for not leaving, and I will forgive you for not sticking around
Forgive me for not forgetting you, and I will forgive you for not choosing me

Love, let’s make a pact
I will forgive you, but you have to forgive me too
Forgive me for not letting go, and I will forgive you for not holding on
Forgive me for not distancing myself, and I will forgive you for not coming closer
Forgive me for not giving up, and I will forgive you for not making the gamble
Forgive me for not hating you, and I will forgive you for not loving me

Love, let’s make a pact
I will forgive you, but you have to forgive me too
So that at last, I can finish this poem that has lived inside me for far too long
And forgive me if it becomes too long and is too full of bulls***
But I promise, this is the last, this is the last, this is the last…

I’ll start again from the beginning, with the way you smiled at me and asked where I live
I’ll start again from the beginning, with the way you smiled at me
I’ll start again from the beginning
I’ll start again
I’ll start

This is the last poem I will ever write for you
No
This is the last poem I ever wrote about you

I love you, and I’m so, so spent.


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