Authors’ Note:
In honor of Valentine’s day, we wrote these perspective poems from the point of view of two close friends. Despite having feelings for one another, they keep it hidden for fear of ruining their friendship.
If you love poetry, or any form of creative writing, please contact us at [email protected].
All the Things I Cannot Say
Today, you asked me what I wanted.
You meant the menu at the diner we’ve been to
about a million times, so I
allowed my voice to backstab my heart
as my teeth worried away at my tongue.
I want
to tell you I think you’re beautiful, in a moment
when the sun hits outside but we’re in a room, and yet,
we can feel the light singing in our bones.
I want to trace my hands through your hair,
steady myself in your eyes,
in their shades of burnt charcoal and coffee.
I want you to hear the words from my lips, in all their meaning so it’s
impossible to ignore,
and that perverse part of my heart will stop clanging on my sternum
in a cacophony of suffocated noise.
I know the reciprocation of this love is made unlikelier by its nature,
living a shunned existence within the crevices of my vocal chords.
I sing, and you savor the sweetness without comprehending the feast
that is undulating from my lips,
because this kind of affection is best served in daylight that blurs
its complexities into something consumable.
We are the kind of friends whose whispers blend
into darkened bedroom walls
and ride the half-light of barely mornings,
the type who touch fingertips and barter secrets
for the last chunk of store-bought cookie dough.
We share dialogue, a streamlined conscious,
what’s mine is yours, from coffee cups to sentences.
My passenger seat smells permanently of your perfume.
When you get married one day you’ll call me your bridesman,
but I know I’ve always been your something blue.
Today, you asked me what I wanted.
I ordered the salad,
because I don’t allow myself indulgences.
You ordered a milkshake,
because you are decadent.
We left,
and I was still hungry.
