i must ask myself,
“what is it that
i’m really afraid of?”
i guess, all this time
i’ve been under the impression that
we feel the same way.
just suppressing our feelings until
we can make sense of them but
what if i’m wrong?
what if you meant it
when you said that
you were riding this one out solo?
i guess that’s what’s stopping me
from telling you,
from giving you that letter.
at this point,
i don’t know if i could take
another romantic failure, another
set of months spent
crying and fuming
and writing angsty breakup poems
about a boy i never even dated.
i guess i’m still afraid of
rejection.