I notice that dramatic eye roll
and see that tense jawline.
I hear those frustrated movements.
There’s no eye contact.
My thoughts plead loudly.
Turn around.

Look at me.
I should say it.
No. - I should scream it,
at the top of my lungs.
It’s on the tip of my tongue,
but I don’t.

Just listen.
I want to say it.
No. - I long to say it,
in my fiercest manner.
I need to get it off my chest,
but I won’t.

I’m Sorry.
I have to say it.
No. - I need to say it,
and I need to say it now,
before I lose my chance,
but I can’t.

I now face shoulder blades
and long hair that sways.
I hear annoyance in the footsteps.
Down the hall, a door closes.
I’m here wishing it would open again
So I could say it all.