Zorba The Freak

To let my silence sit beside you and still be answered, like a prayer that never learned how to kneel yet somehow reaches God. To have my quiet land in you the way snowfall lands on a city, soft, relentless, changing everything without ever raising its voice.

To be missed without disappearing… to exist so deeply in your bloodstream that absence becomes a pulse, that even when I am here, you feel the shape of me longing.

To be enough without proving it… not a resume of wounds, but bare as a rib, believed in before it learns how to shield itself… just a heart laid open.

To be held without falling apart… to rest my weight in your arms and lean into you like a collapsing star somehow not shattering the sky, to let softness stay softness, to not turn tenderness into a confession or touch into evidence.

To be understood without explaining… to have you read the pauses in my breath the way fire reads oxygen, the way tides read the moon… no language, only inevitability.

To be wanted without conditions… not “if you heal,” not “if you stay easy,” not “if you never bleed on the carpet,” not kept like a promise that can be broken, but wanted the way rain wants earth: reckless, returning, unasking… without negotiations, without apologies.

I don’t want to be spectacular. I don’t want to be loud. I don’t want to earn love by becoming smaller or brighter or sharper, by sanding myself down until I’m safe to touch.

I want to be the way dusk is… arriving without announcement, staying without justification, leaving something warm behind even after it’s gone.

I want to be the name you breathe when you wake alone, the echo your hands reach for in the dark, the weight your heart expects even when I am not there.

I want to be the scar you protect from sunlight, the tenderness you never weaponize. Without translating my pain into poetry just to deserve a place in your chest.

I want to be the softness you don’t flinch from, the presence you don’t measure. Loved like something human, not temporary.

I want to be… without performing. Without vanishing to be missed.

my broken pieces flow to your shore /