Old soul

He had such an old soul.

I felt the depth in every part of him.

He was as calm as a monk;

there was no doubt about it.

I sensed the silence in every corner of his heart,

but that was never enough.

I needed to know more.

The more I searched,

the more pain I never deserved.

He painted me in green, then in red.

I felt the depth of every shade he carried.

He was too clever,

yet I still painted him in blue.

Deep down, I knew it wasn't real.

I knew it wasn't true.

We looked into each other's eyes every day,

but cold words worked too quickly.

Distance grew before either of us noticed.

I never tried to tell him my story;

somehow, he had already understood it.

A complex mind,

and the games in between.

I was trapped there,

like a dead leaf caught in the wind.

I don't know where to go,

or where this journey will end.

It feels like an old curse

has found me once again.