If you love me,
then why does it feel
like I’m kissing shadows
that don’t kiss back?
You speak in ellipses,
touch me with silences,
leave fingerprints in fog,
but never stay long enough
for the glass to clear.
Why do your glances hesitate…
not running, not staying…
just hanging like storm clouds
on a sky too tired to rain?
You confuse me like fire
that doesn’t burn,
a fever with no sickness,
a whisper with no breath.
You hold me in that cruel space
between the almost and the never,
between a heartbeat
and a heartbreak.
You arrive like dusk…
beautiful, familiar,
but always slipping too quickly
into something colder
than I know how to hold.
You touch me in metaphors,
in glances that linger
just long enough to blister,
in words that say nothing,
yet echo all night
against my ribs
I’ve memorized your silence…
its curves and stammers,
the way it folds into me
like moonlight
on a body too tired
to ask for warmth.
Sometimes, I swear
I see your hands reaching,
not with fingers,
but with restraint,
with everything you’re too afraid
to let me feel.
And I…
I ache like the ocean
aching for the moon.
Every tide a confession
you will never answer.
Every wave,
a desperate repetition:
Come closer. Stay.
I never asked you for thunder.
I never demanded lightning.
All I wanted
was your hand,
held honestly,
in the dark.
But you make me doubt
what I know in my bones:
that affection,
real affection,
should not feel
like I’m drowning
in my own hunger
while pretending to swim.
Not because I am weak.
But because something in me…
perhaps foolish,
perhaps divine,
still believes
there’s a language between us
you’ve yet to speak.
So I sit here,
in this wordless poem
you refuse to finish,
not begging for clarity,
but bleeding into your pauses
like ink
on the edge
of a page you won’t turn.
And if you love me,
even a little,
please…
write something back.
Even if it’s just
my name.
gummygunk
baratheonpilled
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
jacobvanloon
tangentwithtanner
dailybridgerton
stormborns
