dwindling stars

It's the little things at first, right?

Yes, I rather think so.

It always starts bright

The light reaching my eyes 

Only after the delay

And then dwindling out

Like the stars I saw in your eyes

When I first thought “Cute”

And then it ended as “I need space.”

Maybe it was my fault

It is something I prefer to think

Because it eases the guilt

When I think back 

At the look on your face.

But we were younger

And we’ve both grown

And I’ve changed

And they say maturity

Comes with admitting you were wrong.

It does.

I want something 

As good as what we had at the start

And maybe

Because of that maturity

I won’t go 

And mess it all up

All over again.

I hope. I miss you.