There are days I feel like I'm the last person you see, an afterthought just to be polite. It's as if the way you look right through takes my breadth with it as I shrink, deflate. If you don't see me, why would anybody else? Some days it feels you break my heart just because you can, because it is yours to break. It's like every time you leave a conversation midway you break my spirit all over again. And then there are the days you lock me out of your fortress, pull up the drawbridge and arm the wall with your incisive cruelty. I'm like a stray puppy, the way I sit around waiting for your scraps. Pathetic girl, right? Why wait?
Because you always see me in the end, and when you do, I'm all you see. It's in your eyes. No, I'm in your eyes. Just me. And you look at me as if I'm the only one you've ever needed to see and as if I'm the only thing you want to look at. And then you give me your heart to treat as I will, hold me while I'm breaking over something else but you, and put me back together in your absinthe-like eyes. When you come back, its bearing apologies, a good reason for leaving me hanging and an open heart. Because you always come back, as if you can't leave, ever. Because, if I wheedle and I try, I can swim through your moat and break your walls right down, and see you again. Because that's what you need me to do. Force myself through your walls, but wait at your door till you let me all the way in.
Why wait? Because I can't leave.
No, because I don't want to
Because you're worth waiting for.