just a peek
i cling to you
like hotel sheets in the darkā
wrinkled, damp with needing,
fingers curled
like i'm bracing for an earthquake.
you say you see me.
you say you believe in me.
you say you love me.
(i almost believe it too).
i offer myself in fragmentsā
little performances of trust,
stripped-down moments
where i kneel in silence,
hoping submission
might feel like safety.
but donāt ask me to stay soft too long.
i flinch when itās calm.
i wait for the turn.
i let you peek
behind curtains i stitched shut
with blood and boundary,
into a heart that doesn't know
if it's a cage or a cathedral.
just a peek, though.
never the whole thing.
if you saw all of meā
you might run,
and worse,
iād let you.
















