Frail Strings

Sydney Hastings

Is there anything more important than

sharing a sweatshirt with someone you find so divine?

The feeling of prancing about in it and rolling up the sleeves

because I’m much smaller than you and it melts me as I gaze into your ocean-blue eyes.

There isn’t another individual that makes me snort-laugh harder than you.

You wear that silly Steak ’n’ Shake hat like it’s a crown.

You’re the king and you rule my heart.

Hearing you say my name and how much you care for me is pure bliss.

The mob of curly brown locks that sit upon your head

is the physical replica of my heart patterns when you’re in my line of sight,

but I have no idea how you feel.

I’m too nervous to ask.

I’m far too afraid of losing my only good friend left.

This is all a part of the dread of loving someone you can’t have.