​When the Flames Died Too Soon

I was just thinking about his eyes, the way he used to look at me, and all the ways I thought we were meant to be.

I guess it was all a game.

Now I stare into the mirror, rethinking everything that happened between us.

It hurts to think about, but I gotta live with it— all because I thought it was true love, when it really wasn’t even that.

As i look at myself in the mirror, I think, replaying everything: every touch, every laugh, every dumb little game.

It felt real. But now I look into those same eyes— and they’re drained out, pale. Almost as pale as the cream inside the Oreos we used to share.

Back then his eyes had color. Now they look empty, like a kiddie pool that felt so big when you were little, but shallow as hell once you grew up.

And I wonder… what she had that I didn’t. ‘Cause all I ever saw was her beauty, a beauty I could never see in myself.

And then it hits— how fast everything changed. The person I once wanted most is now the same person that makes me sick.

It’s almost like it wasn’t even real. Just a dream I stayed stuck in.

All ‘cause I fell in love with the wrong person.

And it stings. But I gotta let it be.

I rethink him in my head. I know it was a game. But I still see through his mask. I can tell something’s off— his eyes, his energy, even around his own friends.

But he’s with her now. The girl I thought was my friend. And I gotta act like I don’t care, even though I know he hates me and I hate myself.

So what’s the difference?

It was always real on my end. And I still wish it was real on his.

I wrote about him. I thought of him all the time. And now all I got is the ending of a story that never started.

And I still look at his eyes the same way. But now there’s nothing there. Just pale, hollow shadows where love used to live.

It hurts to watch. Hurts to see the one person who once gave me a reason to breathe fall apart— and hate me, all ‘cause I existed, all ‘cause I loved him too much and wasn’t like her.

And deep down I know it once was real. But now the spark’s gone— like a bonfire that died too soon.

And I’m just left here in the cold, waiting for the warmth to come back.