I can tell in the way
He writes his words
And waits for me to message him first
It's in the way he's liked me
Since 7th grade
And how after 8th
He never kept the chase.
i don't want to lose you
Only ten days in
And that's his desperate cry
im right here
I say, and imagine
His head in my lap
And me stroking
His hair and I see what he is--
Lost and broken,
Unsure of me.
His only worry
Is that I'll forever leave.