Instead Of Being Admired, I Want To Be Seen

What does it take to be seen? To be truly seen, I mean. More than a glance. More than being observed or being spotted. More than even being admired. 

I mean seen in the way that there are lyrics attached to your name and secrets that are tied to your pain — and they can see it when your lashes flip up in that fluttering way. 

I mean seen in the way that you need not say a single word, but you breathe with a touch of melancholy, and they know just where to place their hand to soothe your tired soul. 

I mean seen in the way that they know your favorite colors in which you view the world, and they help you color it in on the days that feel more cloudy than usual.

I mean seen in the way that makes you not afraid to tear down your walls because their palms are helping you carry the stones, even though they know you’re fully capable of doing it on your own. 

I mean seen in the way you no longer have to hide behind who you think you should be because someone in this world loves you for exactly as you are — for who you are when the sun first hits your face and before you decide who you’d be that day. 

What does it take to be seen, truly seen?

To be loved for all you and all you are not? 

For every inch of you to be adored?

For every broken part inside of you to be cherished? 

Oh, I want to be seen. I want to be taken in with sunset eyes that light me up from the inside. 

I want to be seen and breathed in, like the air around me is full of magic, fairy dust, and daydreams. 

I want to be seen, and I want to see you too. To see the love in your eyes that makes me want to stay in this amber haze for the rest of my longing days. 

Oh, what does it take to be seen this way? Can you see me now?