🕷️ She doesn’t remember you.

🕯️ Not the rooftop where your fingers touched beneath stars.

🪞 Not the summer night she cried and clung to your hand.

🕊️ Not the laughter that once bloomed between breaths like safety.

🖤 Now she sits behind a glass desk, spine straight, voice razor-sharp, dressed in grayscale silence.

Her eyes hold no warmth. No memory. No trace of the girl who once swore she'd never forget you.

❄️ She calls you by your title.

💼 She speaks like you’re replaceable.

📎 You smile like it doesn’t break you.

But you remember. Every detail. Every silence.

And that’s what makes it dangerous.

⚔️ You were once her world.

And if love is the only thing sharp enough to carve through her walls—

💔 you’ll be the last person she ever lets close enough to ruin her again.