I've put off these words for long enough.
And I think the reason why is I didn't know what they were until this moment.
You were a much needed shot of life.
You were a meteor shower through my night sky,
I would never grow tired of watching you.
But when you were gone, my eyes wouldn't adjust.
And it got me thinking that maybe
I was blind before I met you.
You don't know emptiness until someone takes a piece of you and runs far away,
and you're left with a gaping hole where they once were.
I tried my best to overlook it.
I spent all of my time with people who have probably already forgotten my name.
But then I saw your eyes for the first time in months,
and I realized this:
You can't fill emptiness with empty things.