One loves me, but he doesn’t love me enough.

I’m only a shadow of the one that has his heart.

A shade, a xerox, a bad copy.

He needs space to be himself, to find his soul, his own song.

He wants me to help him …

by letting him go.

He wants to be free to love others

the way I love him.

Two loves me, but he doesn’t love me enough.

He’s finding himself as well.

He’s looking for … well …

I don’t know what he’s looking for.

I’m not even sure that he knows.

But he doesn’t think it’s in me.

So when he sees something he likes,

he closes his eyes.

He throws on a blindfold and leaves

for the leaves of another flower.

Three loves me.

He might love me enough.

He says he loves me enough.

But he has another flower, one that is way better than me.

So I know he will never be mine.

All I have is three.

But I need four. A four that chose me. A four that wants me.

A four that needs me enough to be mine.

I wonder where these words go when I speak…

I think of you, of sitting quietly with you, saying nothing, doing nothing, just being there. And I am happy. We have few words between us, except when we talk in taps and touches. Some people don’t talk, because they like to listen. Some people don’t talk, because they like the quiet. They like music, and singing and sighing. They need no speaking voices, because they like the silence. I like that silence. Do you? I wonder.

I wish I could seduce you, make you want me, leave you ill with desire. Perhaps I could, if I tried really hard. But I’m afraid. Afraid to fail, afraid to scare you away. I need you to want me on your own. To get past your fears, your wary heart, in your own way, in your own time. Then maybe you’ll take a jump for me. Coz I’m nice and soft, but being with me is still a pretty big fall, and I’m no cushion. I won’t push you to fall, I’ll only catch you if you do. And I accept the choice that you won’t.

Such is my innocence.