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What love refuses to call me
<p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>Desperate for love,</p><p>desperate for attention</p><p>do I wear an open invitation</p><p>across my skin?</p><p><br/></p><p>When they look at me,</p><p>is that all they see?</p><p>A body waiting to be wanted,</p><p>a door waiting to be entered,</p><p>a thing to be taken</p><p>and forgotten?</p><p><br/></p><p>Here I stand again,</p><p>with nothing left to lose,</p><p>wondering if I was ever more</p><p>than something beautiful</p><p>to be consumed.</p><p><br/></p><p>Am I nothing but an object</p><p>in the eyes of those who desire me?</p><p>A toy to hold until boredom comes,</p><p>then leave behind</p><p>as though I was never human</p><p>to begin with?</p><p><br/></p><p>Am I powerless?</p><p>a prisoner of their wanting,</p><p>while my own wants</p><p>are kept within?</p><p><br/></p><p>Do they see beyond my features?</p><p>Beyond the shape of my body,</p><p>the curves,</p><p>the fullness,</p><p>the parts their eyes linger on?</p><p><br/></p><p>Do they see</p><p>there is a mind behind this face,</p><p>a heart beneath this skin,</p><p>a girl with a thousand thoughts</p><p>they never bothered to ask about?</p><p><br/></p><p>Do they know</p><p>I am more than what</p><p>their eyes can undress?</p><p>I sit quietly</p><p>and watch pieces of myself</p><p>disappear beneath the weight</p><p>of being wanted for everything except who I am.</p><p><br/></p><p>And I wonder</p><p>how many times</p><p>can a heart be made to feel invisible before it forgets</p><p>what being seen feels like?</p><p><br/></p><p>My fists curl beneath the sheets.</p><p>My vision blurs.</p><p>And the tears come quietly,</p><p>each one carrying a question</p><p>I am too afraid to ask aloud.</p><p><br/></p><p>What if I had been loved</p><p>instead of desired?</p><p>What if someone had looked at me</p><p>and stayed long enough</p><p>to learn my language</p><p>my fears,</p><p>my laughter,</p><p>my silences,</p><p>the dreams I keep hidden</p><p>behind my smile ?</p><p><br/></p><p>What if, for once,</p><p>someone saw the whole of me</p><p>and didn't reach for only</p><p>the parts they could possess?</p><p><br/></p><p>Oh, how it hurts</p><p>to feel unloved.</p><p><br/></p><p>To stand in the shadows</p><p>of everything you fear</p><p>you will never become,</p><p>everything you believe</p><p>you are not.</p><p><br/></p><p>To spend so long</p><p>being looked at</p><p>that you begin to wonder</p><p>if anyone will ever</p><p>truly see you.</p><p><br/></p><p>And perhaps that is the cruelest part</p><p>not that they wanted my body,</p><p>but that they never wanted</p><p>to know my soul.</p><p><br/></p><p>If love is truly</p><p>only four letters,</p><p>why does it feel</p><p>like the longest word</p><p>in the world, one I have spent my whole life</p><p>trying to spell?</p>
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