All I do is miss you, and the way you used to be. And all I can do is wonder, how this came to be. I look into your eyes, and see but a stranger. I see the depths of confusion, of turmoil and tears.
Is it her heart? Is it her reason? Her pride? Or lack of… Her self worth? Or lack of… Perhaps her throbbing heart? Or her rapid pulse… Her fear of pain? Or tears… Her fear of sentiment? Or happiness…
They say it’s best to take a chance; to give your trust, without a doubt. To show that ache, that unjust fear, that crushing desire… Only to have it seen and unseen, trampled and forgotten.
It was a secret we shared, or perhaps it was a laugh. A smile? An ache? Or tears… It was something so small, something so simple; something so perfect.