Cowards, the both of us.

A poem.

Cowards, both of us

Aren't we?

tears spilling from my eyes as I ask you.

“Aren't we both cowards?” You turn away,

“look at me!”

You are, there's nothing you could say to deny it

There's something at the very tip of your tongue and mine too

You would leave it unsaid, and so will I too

Because I'm a coward, and so are you

So we'll both tread different paths, far away so we don't cross paths

And the heaviness of what was left unsaid will keep us at arms length

I still taste the bitterness of those unsaid words,

I taste it in the morning when I first rise, in the afternoon's lull, and I still taste it at bedtime’s sigh

The heaviness makes my throat constrict, and makes my tongue feel twisted

it is with so much hankering that I wish you feel the suffocation that I feel,

Perhaps, if it kept you up at night, you would decide to cross paths with me, again.

And maybe when you do, the heaviness would make you more of a valiant being.

If not, then my question still remains.

Cowards, the both of us.

Aren't we?