Maybe…
If he had seen her silence as a scream,
Not just coldness tucked in a dream,
He would've held her—not just her hand—
And asked her what she feared, not just where they'd stand.
Maybe…
If she had told him about the war in her chest,
Instead of smiling like she was just fine, just blessed,
He wouldn't have mistaken her quiet retreat
As betrayal wrapped in a soft heartbeat.
They loved—but loved like fire and rain,
Never speaking, just burning or washing the pain.
Two souls afraid to be fully seen,
Wearing masks where their eyes should've been.
He wanted her whole, she needed to heal,
But neither of them said what they truly feel.
He called it "flight," but gave her no wings,
She called it "love," while hiding sharp things.
If only he had asked why she flinched in light,
And if only she had stayed just one more night...
If only pride had sat down for once,
And hearts spoke first instead of stunts.
But they were young, and scared, and tired,
Falling in love while still half-wired.
They danced around truths and tiptoed through pain,
Waiting for sunshine while praying for rain.
She left not to hurt him, but to survive,
He broke not from hate, but from being alive.
And when she came back, it wasn't for "more,"
But to close a chapter they both still wore.
Love isn't always thunder and bliss,
Sometimes it's what you miss… when you miss.
Maybe they were never meant to stay,
But maybe—just maybe—they could've,
If they'd just known what to say.
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