Save You
The first time I saw those blue eyes,
I understood that this was no ordinary friendship.
Your smile turned my world around.
And your laugh made my cheeks blush.
Never did I see it coming.
The naïve girl I was,
Did not see the mask you had placed upon your face.
The face that could cure cancer with that sweet smile.
The face I wished to see every day.
That slowly faded into an unpleasant frown.
I swore to myself that this wasn’t happening.
I wanted to believe you were okay.
Then I knew
I needed to save you.
But I couldn’t save you from destroying yourself.
You wouldn’t let me in.
I couldn’t save you from tearing yourself apart.
Not then, not now, not ever.
I saw your life ripping away, and you had no control.
The words you spoke were tired, and lifeless.
Like what you had become.
How could I save you?
Now you never smile, and when you do it isn’t really there.
You drown yourself in the smoke, the pills, and the suffocating regret.
You aren’t happy, although you say you are.
But is this what happiness is to you?
Now we talk as strangers, and I wonder if you miss the love we shared.
That smile that once made me laugh has made me crack.
Those baby blue eyes have transformed into a distorted grey.
I didn’t save you.
You walk alone now, and I hardly get a glance.
But you still mean the world to me.
You didn’t want me to change and I haven’t.
Because I couldn’t save you.
Just a poem I wrote for a creative writing class about an old friend.