She took my hands and placed them on her hips,
Then smiled at me as I craved for her lips.
My palms were sweaty and I started losing grip,
My vision started getting blurry and I almost tripped,
But something was keeping my composure,
And now that I think about it, I probably should have told her.
Because
I swear to god she was the one who saved me,
But when I think about her, it drives me crazy.
Because the moment passed and she had to leave,
Just as I noticed the cuts under her sleeves.
I didn't ask why,
And even if I wanted to, I didn't have time.
I understand what it's like to try and cope,
Feeling weak in a world so "cut-throat."
Maybe I feel like I should return the favor,
To be the one who is her savior.
But that's all on the list
Of maybes and "what-ifs."
Truthfully I don't know,
And for now I should stay on my toes,
At least until the day comes when I see her again,
And not let go of what could had been.
Just a free-verse.