It's been a while since i saw you, Heard your voice, messed your hair. It's been a while since that last text, Since that night that changed me as a person. I lost you that night and still try to understand why, But you're no longer here to help me find the answer. Some days i blame myself, for not noticing anything strange, For not seeing those small things, like the way your smile stopped reaching your eyes, the way you stopped using your favourite perfume, even though i know you never leave your room without smelling like a mix of cherries and cinnamon. I grew to like cinnamon, the smell, the taste, everything. Now i get why you were so obsessed with it. Some days i blame your parents, for not noticing anything strange. You're their daughter, they should have known. But then again, you seemed okay, you were arguing with your mother because she made something for dinner that you never liked; you were chatting with your father about your guitar lessons. Everything seemed fine, but you were not. You were pretending, wearing a mask of your usual self while breaking down beneath the surface.