I stared blankly at him,
he just stared back.
His eyes, shinny and a striking shade of blue;
a tone I’ve grown used to.

I talked to him sometimes,
he never, ever replied.
He just stares at me,
sometimes he’d smile,
sometimes he looked more flirty,
or he looked plain sad.

I touched his face, his hair,
silky and smooth.
He never touched me.
I used to steal a kiss back then,
but he never kissed me back.

The day came I put him in that box.
His flirty looks, his blue eyes,
he lays in that box.