I’m weary of your winds,
soft whispers that promise fire,
then vanish in the hush of “just friends.”

You speak like a lover in the moonlight,
then vanish at dawn with your walls drawn high.
Yet when I smile at another flame,
your silence burns louder than words.

What is this dance you lead me in?
One step forward, two steps back,
your heart a maze I cannot read.

Am I a passing breeze in your garden,
or a root you dare not let grow?

Speak, Lily
not in riddles, not in sighs.
Tell me where I stand in your sky,
before I drift too far to return.

Me