if you tell me that you love me, i will not say it back

instead, i will tell you that your voice reminds me of indian chai tea and that your lips taste the way i thought cherry blossoms would and that i'd much rather sleep pressed up against your skin than under a sheet — i will tell you that i plug in my headphones to listen to your heartbeat and that you make me want to scream and cry and buy a one-way ticket to the other side of the world just to get away from you and i will tell you that i feel like i am skydiving without a parachute because i have never fallen so hard or so fast and that's scary and yet i have never felt more alive than when i am with you