Almost

You never knew. Or if you did,
you played it off. You kept it hid.
I watched you walk those halls each day,
then turned my face the other way.

You passed me by, all ease and light,
while I stayed folded out of sight.
You spoke her name, not mine, back then—
the girl with stars and perfect skin.

I told myself it wasn’t true,
this quiet pull I felt for you.
But there you were—in every song.
In dreams that stayed a decade long.

And still today, you cross my mind
like something lost I never find.
Not sharp, not loud, but always near—
a voice I never got to hear.

You never knew. I never said.
But all that silence still feels red.
A flicker, soft, I can’t outrun—
the weight of love
that touched no one.