Say it.
Tell me you also remember and think of me in almost all of the poems and prose you read; that those screenshots we sent to each other were love letters hidden beneath them; that those were the words and feelings we were afraid to confess.

Say it.
Tell me you fantasize of me naked on your bed; that those fetishes we talked about were the things you wanted to do with me; that there were nights when the thought of us making love sometimes gets you a pre-come. Tell me I turn you on as much as you do to me.

Say it, please.
I want to know that, somehow, I helped you get through all those nights when your mind was at war. Tell me I was able to bring you light; that fighting away those dementors was easier because I became your patronus. Tell me I saved you because, baby, I tried to.

I wish you'd say it.
I want to hear you say I am enough even when we were both empty when we first met. I long to hear you say that you want to try it again this time with me; that I am worth risking for something we were both scared at. I want you to say it back to me.

Say it back.
I know you wanted to,
But still, you haven't said it,

And I know you will never ever.
–Myka M. Obinque

Photo: @doomstache (IG)