telephone.

a slow, hesitant
"hello"
was said
before you spoke your peace
on the situation.
my situation.
the situation that I created
out of silly girlish ambitions
and daydreams on a
Saturday night.
you were sweet, calm, peaceful.
never brash or rude.
the exact things i'd grown to
love
[oh no. can't say that. won't say that.]
L I K E
about you.
why we were such close
friends.
friends.
friends.
nothing more.
you want nothing more, do you?
although my desperately-searched-for answer was
never found
in you.
you
dodged the bullet
like James Bond
and I was left,
the shooter,
stunned by your
soft words
and poetic musings
that i just let it go.
"i have to go."
and i did.
i left and i didn't think about you.
and i laughed and i tried not to care about you.
even though
i know
you cared about me.
"are you alright?"
of course i am.
don't you know me better than that by now?
and i sat there in silence as you read the letter to me.
hands shaking and eyes attempting to water
for whatever reason.
shock.
fear.
sadness.
awe.
who's to say.
all i can say
is that you never really told me what i wanted to hear.
how do you f e e l about me?
how do you f e e l?
i don't care what you want right now
be it the stars, moon, sky, or all three.
i want what you feel.