Seen

In my daydreams

I imagine being seen.

Really seen.

The raw and vulnerable kind of seen.

I wonder if they actually exist…

Souls cut from the same cloth

Do the tiny sheared fibers reunite

And form an image that neither could see alone?

It’s lovely…

Toying with the idea in my mind

But do I want that kind of clarity?

Do I need it?

Is it deserved?

In my daydreams

I press my fingertips to yours

One by one

You smell like safety

You sound like home.

When I look into your eyes

I see me…

The way you see me

And I trust it

There’s no logic.

I see me, the way you see me

It’s foreign and familiar

More terrifying than comforting

I want to go back

But I can’t

I’ve seen my soul in you

It cannot be unseen

Is this a blessing?

I’m not so sure.

 

-Elle

#Poetryfromthenotpoet

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