Invisible walls

You’re there, just a few steps away.

The world around you softens,

like it’s waiting for me to move.

But my feet are heavy,

and my thoughts get tangled

in everything I might lose.

I wonder what your voice sounds like

when it’s saying my name.

I wonder if you’ve noticed

how often I glance your way.

But I keep these thoughts locked tight,

because what if I’m just another shadow?

I want to reach for you,

to break this invisible wall I’ve built.

But every time I get close,

the fear swells and pulls me back.

Not knowing is safer

than finding out I’m not enough.

And yet, not knowing is breaking me.

You laugh, and it shifts the air.

I can’t help but imagine what it feels like

to be the reason behind it.

Every step I take toward you

feels like walking through quicksand.

What if I sink before I even get there?

I wonder if you’d look at me differently

if I told you the truth.

I wonder if the silence between us

is as loud for you as it is for me.

But it’s easier to pretend I’m fine

than to risk the answer.

I want to reach for you,

to break this invisible wall I’ve built.

But every time I get close,

the fear swells and pulls me back.

Not knowing is safer

than finding out I’m not enough.

And yet, not knowing is breaking me.

It’s not that I don’t want to try,

it’s that I don’t know how to survive the fall

if the ground beneath me disappears.

I play the moments in my head

over and over,

but they never feel real enough to touch.

You’re still just a few steps away,

but they feel like miles.

And maybe tomorrow,

or the day after that,

I’ll find the strength to close the distance.

For now, I carry this quiet longing,

and hope it doesn’t swallow me whole.