begging to be seen

sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be loved.

what it’s like to be absolutely adored.

what it’s like to be a character in one of my books.

then I wake up and remember i’m human,

not someone’s figment of their imagination,

though sometimes I think I truly am.

if my skin bled would you see me?

if I screamed till my lungs give out would you hear me?

or will I always be the one to wonder?

wish?

beg?

I guess i’ll beg till my bones turn to dust.