Will You Take It?

2 min readMay 27, 2025

There’s a kind of love I carry in silence —
soft, patient, hidden in glances and quiet smiles.
The kind that doesn’t need a label,
but still aches for recognition.

You laugh like spring,
and I swear, I’d stop time if it meant you’d smile for one more second.
You say my name like it’s fragile,
like I might disappear if you’re too loud.
Maybe I would.
Maybe I already do,
every time you leave the room
and don’t look back.

I tell myself I’m fine with almosts.
With not a thing and just friends.
But in the quiet,
your name beats in my chest louder than reason.
You say love’s overrated,
but I’d rewrite the whole world
just to change your mind.

I’ve read you like a book
you never meant to lend me.
I know the parts you try to hide,
the dreams in your eyes you pretend not to chase.
And I keep hoping —
that maybe you see me too,
not just as someone who stays,
but someone you’d run toward
if the world fell away.