You were a spark
I cupped in trembling hands,
thinking I could warm myself forever
without noticing the blisters forming.
We built a house of secrets
walls made of whispered truths,
windows too fragile to hold our reflections.
I thought we'd live there forever,
but you burned it down
before I could learn how to leave.
I handed you the sharp edges of myself,
thinking you'd smooth them down,
but you carved them into weapons
I never saw coming.
It wasn't love,
but it was something like it
a bond so tight it choked,
so bright it blinded.
I let it consume me,
because isn't that what friendship is?
Now, the quiet feels too loud.
I still reach for you
in conversations I can't finish
and laughter that sounds wrong alone.
You were a lesson in breaking,
how to shatter
and keep walking
as if nothing hurts.
