seeing you was like coming home from a long day of work

but in my case it's coming home from a whole semester's worth

i saw you once again today
after all the times i spent away from home

i saw your face once again today
after all the times i stared at it through my phone

i saw your eyes once again today
after all the times i looked at mine alone

i went out to spend time with you today
and it felt like going back home

you know it really does get sad and lonely
waiting for someone without certainty

but at the end of a long day
as long as i know that everything
and anything i do is all for you

i'd let myself be swallowed by the loneliness
because in the end, it will all be worth it

and when everything else turns out fine
you'll grab me by the hand
and pull me right out

you were a candle;
i was a matchstick

from the start we knew
we're not fit for each other;
doomed to hurt one another

still, we tried to make it work,
despite all the consequences

what were we to do?
we loved one another

i burned myself to give you fire,
to ignite a spark in you;
giving you the blazing passion
to go after what you sought out to be

the scorching heat that burns me,
was nothing compared to the raging
bliss i felt by giving you warmth;
and seeing you light up brighter
more than what you thought you could

soon, the embers melted
every inch of your original self

yet it was fine,
you were a candle after all
a candle who can be molded back
in new ways, shape, and form

but i was only a matchstick
that burns out quick

still, it was fine
because i know for a fact,
if i could do it for eternity
i'd always set myself ablaze
if it means giving you
the light, the warmth, and the fire
to help you serve your purpose

and little did we know,
you helped me serve mine

because some people are like candles,
capable of setting things on fire;
incapable of starting one of their own,
they need something to light up the spark

then, the're some people who are match sticks,
who can start a fire on their own
and give that spark that candles need;
but burn themselves during the process

yet, isn't a matchstick made
to start a fire?

The void keeps pulling me towards its center
with hands tied together, I can't seem to remember
the last time I held yours.
It seems as though forever has passed me by.

No, I take it back
I feel as though it had been an eternity,
since I last held grasp of your soul;
and talked to the billions of pieces
that make it up.

Tiny bits of your identity
that I once had known, but now?

I don't seem to know whether most of your pieces
are still part of you, or has your soul
been shattered too much, that more
pieces have shown themselves
and made their presence
to make up the very essence, of you.

All I know is that every piece that you are made of,
is like a piece of a puzzle, perfectly fitted
with each other, and together
they make you a beautiful masterpiece
that no one can ever pull apart.