I want you to love me By Chukwukwe Eugenia Adaku

 

By Chukwukwe Eugenia Adaku

I want you to love me like the way the sun bids a short farewell so the moon can say hello to the sky (still, the sun never truly fades away for it is still seen somewhere in the world). Like how some people trace the spines of
books, hold each page as though it’s made of silk, and reread every word front to back after a while just to relive that moment of reading a book for the first time.
I want you to love me like I am the morning breeze you adore at five in the morning. Like how a mother’s eyes glimmer when she sees her newborn child for the first time.
Love me like galaxies colliding to each other. Like I’m a familiar shirt in your closet that you never seem to outgrow. Like not the attraction between two magnets (I want us to always find our way to each other no matter how far we’re pulled apart). But if all of these have failed.
I want you to love me when my chest seeks comfort in your arms at three in the morning. I want you to love me when I have failed to love myself. I want you to love me in the morning when I just woke up and all of the bruises I have made last night are still seen and when my eyes have failed to see the bruises I have made on my skin.
I want you to love me. I hope you can. I’m bleeding words. Can you hear my heart? It throbs. It shouts. It calls out your name and sometimes you can feel the vibrations rattling beneath my skin. I want you to love me. I hope you can..I’m already out of words. Can you feel my heart? It beats. It sings. It murmurs your name and sometimes you can hear it in my bones.
Love me like an unforgettable memory. Like the way the waves kiss the shore. Like how painters cherish every detail of their masterpieces, how writers bleed with words, how photographers try to capture beauty without words, and how musicians fall in sync to the beat of their hearts. I want you to love me like you’ve realized home is not a place, but a person (I’m your home).
I want you to love me. I don’t care if my palms will hurt. I don’t care if I get more bruises and scars. I don’t care if it brings pain when you love me (besides, I have bandages in my pocket). Just love me. just want you to love me, that’s all.
©Aecons

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