I want you so completely and utterly detrimentally but you don't want me. As a result, I have to learn to let you go. My fists are colorless and drained and my arms have been trembling from the strain of holding on to an imaginary possibility for so long. There are new callouses on my palms you'll never feel and a painting of multicolored bruises on my legs that you'll never hear me explain the stories too.

The truth is, even if I coerced you into a relationship and you willingly complied, it wouldn't be the same as you initially desiring it. I wanted you to covet me with the same intensity that I yearned for your affection. Where my longing took form in a craving, in hunger, as a necessity for survival. I just wanted you to choose me like it wasn't even a choice, I was the only option. I needed you to seek me because you brought up the idea until it inhabited your thoughts so much you couldn't stop. I didn't want your impulse because you read it after I wrote it into my poetry.

Because if I did convince you to be with me, after being in a stable relationship, you would tell me that you developed a similar love for me like I displayed for you months prior. However, if it were not for my intervention, you probably would've never spoken to me that way. Knowing that makes me question everything.

Right now I love you. Oh, I really do. You make me want to paint every wall in the house with murals of blooming flowers because you're an artist and for once you deserve to be the muse. I want to show you all my petals in full bloom. I want to open up to you. You make me want to shed all my outer exteriors, thorns and all, because they're just a barrier from your skin and you never mishandle my body. You will forever be gentle will all my delicate petals. You are safe and there is nothing I have to protect.

With all of that, none of my becomings change the fear that whispers in my ear. Two hours since I've heard from you and my bed is empty. The whispers confirm what I already believe. Nothing I could ever do would make me feel like I was good enough to be wanted by you without persuasion.