The wound is at her heart,
Her world is apart,
Trying to reach her,
Yet I can't speak with her.
Why is it so tough?
Whenever I see her,
I just stand there,
Frozen in the cold, with just a cough.
Is it my fault?
That I never stood by her,
Or is it her fault?
That she tried others?
I reach for words,
But they never stay,
They slip through my fingers
And fade away.
The day feels different,
But she wouldn’t know,
Once, I was there—
Now, I watch from the shadow.
If I had spoken,
Would things be the same?
Or was I meant to
Lose this game?
Today should be special,
Like the days we once knew,
But time has spoken—
And so, I stay silent too.
Today is her birthday, and I can't wish her,
So I wrote this as a gift to her.