A long time coming

6 months is a long time. A long time to be "just friends" with a hint of something else. Talking to you makes the overthinking quiet My usually constantly moving brain stills And for once I can’t think of what to say But when you're gone i go back Pick apart every word and phrase Trying to figure out what I could say to make you stay 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 wretched game. I plead with you to tell me. Tell me if all of these months have been for nothing I am begging. But then my knees start to bleed. I don’t know how much longer I can kneel waiting Bruised with my perilous plead, I am sick. I am sick of playing pretend. I am sick of saying that "everything is fine" I jump rope in between the lines. The line between fine and lie. Your feelings are what you call undefined every changing. forever unrefined. please. 6 months is a long time to lie. a long time to repeat the same measly words Those phrases that everyone in our generation says to avoid saying what we really mean “What are you doing?” really means “I miss you” “How are you?” really means that I don’t know who I am without you over and over. I need the truth. actual answers. Not the avoidant ominous lines that you have probably told 30 other people looking for something more that just friends with a little hint of something else. 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.