Halcyon

The One Who Hopes

A/N: This is a dual poem again. This poem is the guy's perspective, and the girl's perspective is the next. No, the girl and the guy are right from their POV, but my heart goes to the girl.

Why, author? Do you know them?

Maybe. Or Maybe not. And this whole thing is a joke. LOL.

I wait for the flicker, the glow of your name,
A message, a word—anything the same.
I ask if you're fine, I check if you ate,
Not for a debt, not for fate.

I move like the wind before you can reach,
Anticipate needs to prevent a fall.
Are your hands full? I'll carry the weight,
Is a task too much? I'll stay up late.

I am the hands beneath your strain,
The voice that shelters from the rain.
The first to arrive, the last to leave,
Hoping, always hoping—you'll finally see.

Yet your words are echoes, quiet, dry,
A single nod, a hollow "hi."
Not rude, not sharp, but distant still,
Like I'm just another cog in your wheel.

I type, I send, I wait, I read,
I water a garden that cannot breathe.
Your replies are short, a syllable long,
Never a question, never prolonged.

Yet here we are, the same routine,

Your silence is deep, my heart between.
You speak to others, I watch, I fade,
A presence waiting, always delayed.

I know, I know, I see the signs,

The way you shift, the way you hide.
Each time I near, you find escape,
With each step I take, you move away.

Still, I remain a foolish heart,

Tied to a thread that fell apart.
Maybe one day I'll turn and leave,
Let go of the hope you'll never breathe.

Maybe one day I'll see the truth,

That some love drowns before it roots.