6 months is a long time.
A long time to be "just friends" with a hint of something else.
I love the time well spent.
I hate when I overthink.
When I go over every little thing you once said, pick apart the true and false.
try to tell if you meant those sweet little nothings.
Prove to me that you did.
Prove you didn't lie.
Please.
Please
please-
pleas-
I plead.
I plead with you to end this retched game.
I plead you to tell me. tell me how you really feel.
I am begging.
My knees start to bleed.
Bruised with my perilous plead,
I am sick. I am sick of playing pretend.
I am sick of saying that "everything is fine"
I play jump rope in between the line.
The line between fine and lie.
My feelings are undefined.
every changing. forever unrefined.
please.
6 months is a long time to lie.
a long time to repeat the same measly words
"what's on your mind"
"wyd?"
"how are you feeling?"
over and over.
I need truth.
actual answers.
I am begging.
the harsh ground digs into my palms as I lean over my thighs.
head to the floor as my tears soak the space underneath them.