That’s the answer to all the unasked questions between us.
The answer to “I miss you.”
The answer to “How was your day?”
Yes, my heart goes, when we talk about our days.
(Not together, maybe apart, but “with,”
That’s the answer to all my questions about you.
(ie, common sense, my girls, geography, the world, all the songs)
That’s the answer my heart yells out
in the silence between phrases
the pauses between breaths,
the laughter all around.
The answer I cry out in the vowel-less “hmmm”
because, well, I don’t know what’s next.
because the questions don’t get asked
and nothing that matters get spoken out loud
the yes never comes out.
Instead of answers,
we fill up the space between us
with the randomness of stories and talks and opinions.
what could be
if you just…
But you don’t.
The world spins ignorantly,
hurtling us forward to paths
that run parallel
but are not together.
I don’t know,
if after this little while,
if the answer will still be
If you’re my friend and you think you know what this is about, please know that this is a work of fiction. And I just thought it would be fitting to the teenage poetry thing if I put the question down there.