You Let Go
Flowers bloomed on my fingertips when you slid yours between them, and died the second you pulled away.
Now, when I look at my hands all I see are colorless petals aching for you to bring them back to life again.
And knowing there’s a chance that that won’t happen, that the petals will remain brown and lifeless in my palm, makes me feel like every other part of me is wilting too.
And I don’t know how to tell you this without sounding crazy or desperate or both,
But I’m scared that if you choose her over me, my whole being will wither and fly away.
But I’m also terrified that if I don’t tell you, you’ll slip right through my fingers and I won’t be able to get you back.
So, in other words,
“I like you, but I don’t know what to do.”
