You ran to the door like you always did, no idea what I’d walked out from. Maybe you waited the nights I was gone — still hopeful, still sure I’d come.
We played like nothing else mattered at all, you stayed by the door when I’d leave. You knew I’d return like I always had — one of the things I silently grieve.
I don’t know if you’d still know my face, or if time’s erased what we knew. Would you still light up if I walked in, or just stare like I’m someone new?
They took you like I never mattered, like love could just be split in two. I didn’t leave because I stopped loving — if it wasn’t for them, I’d still be with you.