i know why you didn’t answer,
why your words hang heavy in the air,
a quiet void that speaks volumes.
i told you it was fine—
and it is,
but the weight presses harder each moment
you choose not to speak.
please, just say it.
tell me, and let the truth cut clean.
better the sharp sting of honesty
than this slow bleed of uncertainty,
where i play the clown,
masking my questions with trembling smiles,
only to crumble in the silence
that follows me home.
you are allowed to change your mind.
you can call this too much,
too fast,
or too wrong.
you can say it was a mistake—
a fleeting shadow of something
that was never meant to grow roots.
it will hurt, yes.
but i would bear it.
just fucking tell me.
or am i wrong?
is this silence your shield,
a fortress of fear or doubt,
because trust has its limits
and you can’t let me in?
is it easier to leave me grasping at shadows
than to risk being seen,
raw and unguarded?
i don’t like this game,
this guessing,
this limbo.
speak, or don’t—
but know i am unraveling
in the quiet between us.