The one truth I could never confess to anyone who knows me is how desperately I want to be loved, I don't think I could say it. How I want someone to hold my wrists and kiss my palms and smile at me, and want me, More than anything, I want to be wanted. And I fear—how much longer can poetry and songs soothe the hollow in my chest that only being truly desired could fill?....
Sep 4, 2025
Sep 4, 2025 at 1:22 PM UTC
The one truth I could never confess to anyone who knows me is how desperately I want to be loved, I don't think I could say it. How I want someone to hold my wrists and kiss my palms and smile at me, and want me, More than anything, I want to be wanted. And I fear—how much longer can poetry and songs soothe the hollow in my chest that only being truly desired could fill?....