l i g h t s
burning on your forehead
i saw them spelling
l i e s
on a rainy morning in march.

i think it is sad to say
i will never look at you the same way.
i will never see the passion
burning in your eyes;
the happiness in the creases of
your pure white bed sheets.

you were cruel;
brutal, you crashed us in the blink
of an eye. you were not what i thought
you were.