Your Silence

I sit in your silence, scared.
Waiting patiently for recognition.

For a word.
For a breath.
For a touch.

But I am raw.

Because I watch your hands instead of writing
and listen for your breath instead of breathing.

It's strange how close to you I feel
and the need I have to be with you,
to make you smile.

And yet I'm still sitting here,
waiting,
for you to let me in.