drm chsr

please,
don’t let me fall.
don’t allow me to be 
the drip that misses 
the glass,
the first peach off of the tree.
you read me too quickly,
and now i can only 
remain open, wishing
that you could read more.
please,
don’t string me along. 
i’m not a balloon on
a line,
i will not float when
you cut ties.
i am a stone
that sinks quickly,
not a lilypad,
or leaf that knows how to
keep myself
above the waves.
i never needed to see you,
touch you,
want you;
but i do now.