Let Me Rest For Awhile

can i have this dance?

i like you but this can't be blurted out while expecting a response. no, i can't, because you're my friend and i'm surely not alright.

i've tried everything. astrology won't prove whether you like me back or not. tarot reading is secretive. you're a gryffindor and i'm a ravenclaw. you're a protagonist, i'm a campaigner.

we are matchless.

we would only be a stellar collision—the coming together of two stars, burning brightly solo, orbit around each other closely, spiralling inward, entwined in a fatal dance with each other and die with a violent explosion.

it's just that if, somehow, mistakenly you became aware of what i felt about you, the irritating words idled inside me might randomly fall out of my mouth, my head and my heart that i'm left haunted knowing there would undoubtedly be no going back to being friends.