I write your name small
In the corner of a page,
Like if I hide it enough
No one will steal it from me.
You’re only ten miles away,
But it feels like a country.
Your school, your friends,
Your whole world
That doesn’t have a place for me yet.
I see strings everywhere:
The net between us in volleyball,
The wires in my brain that hum too loud,
The invisible thread I swear ties you to me
Even when you walk past
Without noticing the pull.
But there are obstacles,
People who talk to you
Like it’s nothing.
The girls who laugh too easily,
The boys who stand too close,
The schedule that splits our practices,
The weekends that swallow you whole.
And then there’s me.
My thoughts crowd the door,
Warning me about everything.
What if you forgot my face?
What if someone else stands
Exactly where I’m supposed to be?
I keep imagining you drifting
Slowly, slowly, slowly,
Like a balloon I let go of
By accident.
But still,
I hold the string in my fist,
Feeling it tremble
Like hope
Like fear
Like something fate tied but forgot to explain.
And I write you again
In the corner of the page,
Trying to spell your name
The way the universe must see it:
Bright,
Inevitable,
And always just out of reach.