Ris(k)ing

What is this longing rising inside me?

Is it for you,

or simply for what we could be?

The pain

in my chest

g r o w s tighter

as I let the potential

overtake my present.

Do I dare ask for a hug, (more)

though I risk

pushing my imagination too far,

to places it has no right to go,

though I risk

pushing the

line between

this beautiful friendship and the unknown.

You cross my mind

a million times a day.

Well, maybe not a million,

but enough to know

there will be a scar

when I/you leave.

Even now,

leaving has left

a bitter taste

on my tongue,

right next to the cut

from when I bit off

more than I could chew,

and directly behind the burn

from the last time I gulped

before I let this feeling cool.

Do I even know you?

Do you think you know me?

Why am I always rushing this,

five steps ahead in my brain?

Why is this so complicated,

hidden,

unsettling?

But the racing of my heart reminds me why

I’ve been waiting so long for this moment of uncertainty.

And I will wait again,

if you’re not the one

meant to face this moment with me.