I’ve made a mistake.
I kept tabs on her like I keep a bookmark in a book.
Like coming back to a book, and suddenly the story is completely different.

After our last conversation, it was sure nothing would change
the dreadful outcome of our lives.
The idea of you being happy was all I needed.

But you couldn’t just be happy without me.
You let go of the light and fell right into the darkness of your past.
A rebellion against me, I’m sure.

Like you strike your lighters and matches to drugs,
so will I, to everything we once shared.
A box is nothing more than a box if left unopened.

Even more so when it is reduced to ash.