She’s fifteen, heart full, but heavy with doubt, Trying to smile while she’s fading out. Once she’d text back before he could blink, Now she stares at her phone, too tired to think. She loves him, truly, that’s never been fake, But her chest feels tight with every step they take. The jokes hit less, the silence hits more, She’s not walking out—just unsure what for. He notices now, in the cracks of her voice, In the way she stalls, like she’s lost her choice. “Are you okay?” he asks with care, She nods, but her thoughts aren’t there. She hates this space that’s grown between, Built from things she never means. It’s not another boy, or a change of heart, It’s the weight of the world tearing her apart. But oh, she loves him—deep in her soul, He’s the only one who ever made her feel whole. She’s just tired, not done; just scared, not cold, Still hoping their story keeps being told. So she whispers, “Don’t give up on me yet,” Eyes glassy with love and quiet regret. “I’m still yours… just trying to find my way, And I promise, I want us to stay.”