I'll play with you

Let me taste the thunder

you swallowed just to stay small.

Let me trace the wild

they told you not to show at all.

---

Let me feel the echo

of the scream you never let loose.

The boy who learned early

that softness was no use.

Peel off your fake “I’m fine,”

the mask you wear so well.

I’ll kiss what’s underneath,

where you forgot how to feel.

---

Let me touch the parts of you

they said you would not need.

Those red and orange flames

you forced into deep sleep.

Let’s dig out all the things you buried —

the ones they said you couldn’t keep.

The little tin soldier, the burnt paper star,

your ribbon-wrapped secrets still sealed in a jar.

The match you struck once, the dream you let scar,

the boy you were before they said, “you won’t get far.”

---

Let me love the you they tried to hide,

The one who still burns just beneath your pride.

If you can’t be theirs, then be divine —

If you can’t be mine…

just give me the night.

---

I’ll hold you where the world forgot to look.

In the pages you ripped from your own book.

I’ll kiss the silence under your skin,

the version of you that never fit in.

You don’t have to fight when you're with me.

Let your armor rest.

Come play with me.

---

Let me love the you they tried to hide,

The one who still burns just beneath your pride.

If you can’t be theirs, then be divine —

If you can’t be mine…

just give me the night.