it's not in the way the words come out—
too tangled, too small, never enough.
but in the quiet ways i hand you my heart,
like a song at midnight,
its lyrics too loud for me to say myself.

it’s in the reels i send,
stupid jokes, clever lines,
all curated from hours of scrolling,
just to see if they’ll make you laugh
the way i imagine you do,
when you’re not with me.

it’s in the teasing—
the lighthearted jabs,
the playful insults with edges soft enough
to remind you i’d never hurt you,
not really.
but it’s the only way i know
to hide how much i mean it
when i say you’re everything.

it’s in the lists i make
for the days we might finally meet,
the places we’ll go,
the things we’ll do.
a million tiny details tucked away
for a future that feels closer
with every passing text.

it’s in the way i map out your laugh,
plan a route to hear it more,
make a home in the sound of your voice,
even when it’s just words on a screen.

i care like this because it feels safer—
a song is easier to give
than the truth behind it.
a plan is easier to build
than a confession.

but if you look closely,
you’ll see it:
the care in every chorus,
in every meme,
in every “you’re so annoying”
that really means “don’t go.”

and maybe one day,
you’ll hear the love
hidden in the way i show you the world
through my eyes.