longing

Hold my hand while you cut me down, 

 it had only just begun, but now it’s over. 

 You’re in the heat of moments, 

 your heart playing the role of ice, 

 and I’m caught in the middle, 

 watching hastiness unfold. 

 

In my eyes, you were smiling, 

 the spotlight glinting off your laughter, 

 dancing with the night, a waltz of shadows. 

 But the night, oh the night,

 it’s slipped away from your mind, 

 leaving me tired and drained.

 

 Where did you go when you stayed behind? 

 I looked up, inside, down, outside, 

 only to find emptiness, echoes of laughter that bite at my smile. 

I get closer, yet you clearly prefer her, 

 wrapped in her glow while I fade into the background. 

 

 I’m weary of the effort, 

 your teasing feels hollow,

 a whisper dancing on a distant breeze.

 Fed up with the waiting, 

 the pauses stretched long,

 each moment heavy with the weight of nothing.

 

 And for what? For what? 

 When I don’t get anything back—

 the silence rings louder than your laughs, 

 and I’m left questioning it all, 

 wondering where the warmth went. 

 

“Never mind,” said your open arms,

 but could it be that you tricked me, 

 lured me back into forgetting?

 Even though I’m exhausted, 

your touch feels like a fleeting ghost, 

 just out of reach, now vanished. 

 

 I’m tired of trying, 

 your teasing isn’t enough, 

I’ve spent too long biding my time,

 when nothing ever returns, 

and for what? For what? 

When the echoes fade into silence,

  I find myself lost, 

in a room filled with shadows, 

 you remain a fading thought, 

 and I’m left holding my breath, 

waiting for a love that was never mine,

 a longing that crumbles 

in the chill of a lonely night.