I'm an open book in your gentle hands,
pages turned with care, each chapter known.
You've memorized my story's twists and bends,
embracing even the parts I've outgrown.
The truth is, I fear being truly known,
thinking that vulnerability will only lead to pain.
But in your eyes, my true self is shown,
and you understand, reminding me again and again.
Sometimes I think I should run and hide,
protect myself from being known so well,
but in you, I confide
every secret my heart wishes to tell.
You know the rhythm of my sleepless nights,
the cadence of my laughter, soft and true.
In these quiet moments and in blinding lights,
you read me like a book, old yet new.
To be loved is to be known, they say,
and in your knowing, I have found my home.
With you, I'm not a stranger led astray,
but a story you've read, every single tome.
