can you hear me?

can you hear

what i am not saying?

how my voice

shakes behind the calm?

how every sentence

is me

unbuttoning my ribs

one at a time?

i am not dramatic

i am terrified.

terrified

that you will look at me

and only see

skin.

when i am trying

to hand you

the red, beating truth

beneath it.

this is not flirtation

this is not pretty.

this is me

pulling the curtain back

on the softest part of myself

and whispering.

here.

here is the ache

here is the hunger

here is the love

i have been swallowing

for months.

i want to be chosen

without having to beg

i want to be held

without having to break.

can you see

how hard it is

for a woman

to open like this.

we are taught

to be wanted

not to want.

and yet

here i am.

wanting you

so loudly

it feels like

a wound.

can you hear it?

or do i have to

bleed louder.