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You hold your hands in fists from under your lap, a feeble attempt at holding it together—from stopping yourself to open your heart and let the words that you& #39;ve been harbouring the past months to spill from your lips to his feet, offering it up to him as confession. https://twitter.com/sikenpoems/status/1391532824101011459">https://twitter.com/sikenpoem...
The moment you relax your shoulders, you know a dam will open and you& #39;re not sure to what extent can the interior of your car hold, afraid that what you feel will drown you both.
So, you try. You& #39;re trying.
But then a familiar song comes on the radio and he chuckles,
So, you try. You& #39;re trying.
But then a familiar song comes on the radio and he chuckles,
before he sings along, and you look over and—you& #39;re completely fucked, aren& #39;t you?
The corner of his lips are turned up, his eyes straight ahead before he glances at you and the familiar lights outside are no comparison to his glint, his spark, his light.
The corner of his lips are turned up, his eyes straight ahead before he glances at you and the familiar lights outside are no comparison to his glint, his spark, his light.
He asks you to sing along, gently reaches his hand over to your knee and taps you and you know the moment you open your mouth it won& #39;t be the lyrics to the song you& #39;ll be singing.
He turns back and focuses on the road and his voice tugs your heart strings.
He turns back and focuses on the road and his voice tugs your heart strings.
You try. You& #39;re trying, you& #39;ve been trying for a while. Been stopping yourself, been holding back your tongue—something you& #39;re not really good at, are you?
You have always spoken your mind, but not to him, not this time at least.
You tell your knees to stop bouncing.
You have always spoken your mind, but not to him, not this time at least.
You tell your knees to stop bouncing.
You tell yourself to stop, to bury this thoughts in the darkest, deepest crevices of your mind, never to be thought of again.
You try.
But he looks at you again, bewildered at the silence and offers a soft smile.
He says you& #39;re tired and you are.
You try.
But he looks at you again, bewildered at the silence and offers a soft smile.
He says you& #39;re tired and you are.
He says you should rest and you should. You should rest these thoughts and calm your racing heart.
But he calls you by that moniker and his eyes are soft and his smile offering comfort and you& #39;ve tried, but everything has been futile and it spills all over.
But he calls you by that moniker and his eyes are soft and his smile offering comfort and you& #39;ve tried, but everything has been futile and it spills all over.
The dam has been open and there is no going back and you trip over your words, some you never even thought of, coming from parts of you that you have tried to bury.
But it& #39;s here and it& #39;s with him now—for him. All these words and feelings and confusions, all laid out and messy.
But it& #39;s here and it& #39;s with him now—for him. All these words and feelings and confusions, all laid out and messy.
And you pray he understands something, or maybe not, maybe it& #39;s good that he won& #39;t understand a thing, maybe it& #39;d salvage everything, but then he& #39;s looking at you and he& #39;s pulling the car to a stop at somewhere you& #39;ve been before, but not with him. Not yet. Just now.
You tell him to stop, to continue driving, that you& #39;re spitting out nonsense and you try, but he& #39;s already stopped the car and he already has your face in his hands.
And you don& #39;t even realise the tears that have been spilling, not until you feel it on his hands—
And you don& #39;t even realise the tears that have been spilling, not until you feel it on his hands—
not until he& #39;s wiping your face and he& #39;s saying everything back to you when you& #39;ve gone quiet.
And he says he tried, he tried so hard but when you look at him everything is futile. He tells you about your smile and your eyes and suddenly you& #39;re laughing.
And he says he tried, he tried so hard but when you look at him everything is futile. He tells you about your smile and your eyes and suddenly you& #39;re laughing.
You try to stop, but he joins along and the car is suddenly warm with laughter and you& #39;ll probably figure out everything later when the night is calmer than it is now.
But you laugh because you tried and isn& #39;t it so worth it when he inches closer and know that he tried as well?
But you laugh because you tried and isn& #39;t it so worth it when he inches closer and know that he tried as well?
And isn& #39;t so worth it, when you find out later, when the laughter has died down and both your tears have dried that you& #39;re both willing to try?
— end of thread —
everybody knows this story already
everybody knows this story already
