Take the time to look into my eyes—
not the steady ones I practice
but the ones that flicker
when I’m afraid you’ll see too much
and walk away
Take the time to see me—
the part that wants connection
and the part that flinches from it
the part that reaches
and the part that retreats
because I’ve misread people before
Take the time to tell me
I’m not forgotten—
because some days I convince myself
I’m easy to overlook
easy to replace
easy to leave behind
Tell me I’m not alone—
because I’ve learned
how to look composed
even when I’m unraveling quietly
in the corners no one checks
Tell me we’re in this together—
not everything
but at least this part
the part I don’t show often
because I don’t want to burden anyone
with the weight I carry
Will you see me
beyond our casual conversation
beyond the version of me
that hides the questions
I’m embarrassed to ask?
Will you hear me
beyond the words I say
beyond the careful tone
I use to sound fine
even when I’m not?
Will you know me
beyond the image I project
beyond the competence
the calm
the practiced strength
I wear like armor
hiding my tender parts?
Will you take the time—
the real time
the inconvenient time
the time that asks you
to sit with me
when I’m not easy to hold?
(Am I worth it—
not just when I’m steady
but when I’m uncertain
when I’m afraid
when I’m trying to believe
that I deserve to be seen at all?)
© Ron Simpson Jr.
September 15, 2026
