DON'T MAKE ME GUESS

Don't.

Don't make me

guess.

You leave your keys on my counter,

your jacket over my chair.

Stay until Sunday morning,

then act like you were never there.

You call me when you can't sleep,

then vanish for a day or two.

I know what all of this looks like.

I just don't know what it means to you.

If it's nothing,

call it nothing.

If it's more,

don't make me do the work.

Don't make me guess.

Tell me where I stand.

Don't pull me close

then take away your hand.

Don't make me guess.

I won't ask you twice.

If you want me,

want me. If you don't,

that's fine.

But say it.

Say it straight.

You kiss me at the doorway,

then joke when I look surprised.

You say, "Don't make it serious," with that serious look in your

eyes.

Your friends all know my name now.

Mine keep asking what you are.

I keep giving them bad answers because you won't give me one

at all.

If it's nothing, let me leave it.

If it's real,

don't make me read your mind.

No "maybe later." No "let's

just see." No looking at me like

that then saying you don't know what I mean.

I can take a no.

Really.

I can.

What I can't take

is waking up beside you and pretending I don't know who I

am.

Don't make me guess.

(don't make me guess) Tell me where I stand.

If you're scared,

say you're scared.

I might understand. (I

might

understand) Don't make me guess.

Come on, look at me.

If you want me,

want me.

Don't make me

make you mean it.

Do you? ...Okay. That's all I needed.