We’re so alike, it’s almost scary.
The same thoughts at the same time,
laughing at jokes before they’re even told.
We move in sync, like we were made
to fit together,
but somehow still, we don’t.
Not quite.
We get close, close enough to feel that spark,
but not close enough to catch fire.
There’s something flat in the way we linger,
like we’ve danced around this for so long
we’ve forgotten the steps to move forward.
You lean in, and for a second I think—This is it.
But it never is.
Just another moment that hovers,
waiting for a push we never give.
We’re so alike, yet stuck in this place
where the air hums with everything we won’t say.
Comfortable, but not complete.
Caught between knowing each other
and knowing what we could be.
But I never show it,
keep my feelings tucked away,
so we stay here,
wrapped in the almost of it all,
too similar to break it,
too scared to push it.
And now I wonder,
is this what we are?
More than friends,
but never more than this.
Always on the edge,
but never jumping.
Are we just “this” forever?
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