green dot

We text for a while,  
but silence creeps in,  
that little green dot  
in the corner,  
taunting me,  
mocking my confusion,  
a flicker of hope,  
then back to darkness.  

Do you like me,  
or are you just being friendly?  
Your words float  
like leaves on a breeze,  
sometimes falling softly,  
other times,  
vanishing into thin air.  
I’m always the first to speak—  
the brave one in this dance,  
the one who opens the door  
to our small world of texts,  
yet sometimes you take the reins,  
your messages wrapping around me,  
nurturing a fragile hope,  
but still, I find myself lost,  
adrift in uncertainty.  

How do you feel?  
I wish you could bridge  
this chasm of unspoken thoughts,  
this void of longing,  
a simple whisper—  
“I like you.”  
But those words  
are delicate as butterfly wings,  
and I wonder if they’ll ever leave your lips.  

I gather courage,  
build castles of imaginary conversations,  
but they tumble like sand,  
leaving me standing alone,  
just a solitary figure  
in this ever-spinning world.  
Daydreams swirl,  
painted in sunlight,  
yet the sky turns gray,  
and I’m left wondering  
if the warmth will ever return.  

I sit with my phone,  
watch the screen glow,  
a reminder of your presence  
and absence,  
each ping a heartbeat,  
each silence an aching pause,  
a rhythm I can’t understand.  
I scroll back,  
replay our moments,  
search for clues in our threads,  
for hidden meanings  
in your playful banter,  
was it more than friendly?  

Yet doubt seeps in,  
like shadows stretching  
over a fading sunset,  
and I’m caught in this loop,  
this relentless cycle of yearning,  
lost in the spaces between words.  
What if I told you  
how I felt?  
Could bravery break through  
the opaque layers of our friendship,  
or would it shatter everything  
I hold dear?  

I think of the “what ifs,"  
the alternatives,  
the paths left unexplored,  
and each choice weighs heavy,  
pulling at my heartstrings.  
But I linger in silence,  
a ghost in the echoes of our chats,  
waiting for courage to arrive,  
to step into the light  
and chase the darkness away.  

So, I wait,  
like a flower yearning  
for the touch of spring,  
but autumn lingers,  
the little green dot glows on,  
a lonely beacon of possibilities,  
illuminating dreams unfulfilled,  
the hope that flickers,  
but never blooms,  
and I am left here,  
in this vast expanse of unknowing,  
where my heart whispers,  
but the world remains quiet.