The ink is dry and the pages are turned,
The words have been said, our candle has burned

Down to the bare wick, wax creating pools upon the floor-
Burning into the night until no more.

Burning fuel and fire until it was gone,
Continuing on until we realized it was wrong

To light a match to a candle that would soon cease,
One that wouldn't light us to a path of ease.

The candle blew out, the place became cold,
As did my hands when they had nothing to hold.

You blew out my flame, a fire in my eyes-
All you had to do was say your goodbyes.

Surely the sunrise is enough light for me to see,
But the nighttime leaves me blind as could be-

I am blinded by the "miss you's" and the forgotten calls
Of when I answered and began to fall.

Surely the sunrise is a sign of a new day,
Thought what isn't new is what I continue to say-

Of course I miss you, of course I care,
Yet telling you would elicit a blank stare.

I know what we are, I know where we stand,
Though I bet sometimes you miss the touch of my hands.

My hands don't matter though,
And coming up empty handed is how I show

That the feeling of you slipping through my fingers
Will be the only trace of you that will ever linger.