It’s midnight,
And that terrible day is soon upon us.
That day on which I’ve never had anyone,
On which I’ve never asked anyone.
No one’s been mine,
And I haven’t been anyone’s.
So my question here,
The one that’s kept me awake,
Is “should I ask you?”
Is it too late?
Can my life
Intertwine with yours?
I want to ask,
But it seems cliché.
So many men do so on that day.
These men are not men though,
We all are boys.
We have no guidance,
And we have no choice.
We need to try,
And fail if we must.
We need to pour out our hearts
In warm windy gusts.
I know I want to ask you,
But I don’t know how or when.
If I ask you,
On one wintry day,
To take a walk in a blizzard with me,
You must simply say,
What exactly you feel.
That one simple question,
Phrased exactly like that,
Means that you are important to me.
Hell, more than that.