#38- Anytime Soon.

Confusion today.

Came close today, Miss.

To saying something 

I might have regretted.

Found myself, 

Much like that night 

We were talking about Z, 

On the verge of 

Admitting 

Something I don't think

Is much of a secret.

But probably shouldn't

Be said anyway.

Regardless of 

Whether it needs to be.

Not now,

At least.

We hit a momentary snag

Maybe.

When I said something,

I thought was just 

An observation.

Unsure, now, 

If I was starting to cross

A boundary 

I've been careful to respect.

Once upon a time,

I used to tell you

How pretty you are.

Pretty often.

Overtly flirty behavior.

Sure.

But all I did today, 

Was refute your assertion

That you weren't 

As pretty 

As some other girls.

I didn't mean 

Anything untoward.

I'm not trying 

To make a move.

And when we were talking

About some of the fallout

Of the time 

"You and Me" 

In whatever form 

That ever was--

ceased to be--

I had to stop 

To think for a bit.

Could it be

That you forgot 

Exactly how bad 

Things got?

Or maybe you think 

Things were much worse

Than they really were?

I'm quite confused, Miss.

Lots of things I wanted to ask.

Wanted to say.

Not the least of which, 

I still find myself 

Saying to myself.

In secret.

In shame.

In joy.

  

Both when I'm alone

In my misery.

Or enjoying 

The sunshine.

And the subtle hint

And promise 

Of summer warmth 

To come

In the soft caress 

Of an afternoon breeze.

But I stopped myself.

Because, the timing isn't right.

But one day, maybe.

Until then, 

I'll just keep it inside, Miss.

And in words,

Written for nobody 

And written for you

In some uncertain future.

Someday, though.

And I'll be strong

Until then.

I'm thirty-eight poems in,

And I'm not

Slowing down

Anytime soon.

Author's Note

Feels unnecessarily lengthy.