The playground didn’t know

([Verse 1]
You stole my boots, I let you run,
barefoot, laughing in the sun.
You threw sand and it stuck in my hair,
I told you stop, but I didn’t care.

You said, “Let’s never grow too fast,”
you always spoke like life would last.
Now I walk past that empty swing,
and feel nothing — or everything.

[Pre-Chorus]
Sometimes I sit there after dark,
pretend the world still feels like ours.

[Chorus – soft, looping]
The bench, the light, the sound,
your laugh still spins around.
The sky looks too serene,
like none of this has ever been.

Like none of this has ever been.
Like none of this has ever been.

[Verse 2]
You carved my name, I carved yours too,
beneath the paint where no one knew.
The rust still bleeds where we once leaned,
your warmth turned cold inside that scene.

You said it’s fine, you’d call me soon,
but truth decayed like summer moons.
And I still check that empty space,
where time forgot your face.

[Bridge – rising, trembling]
You stayed with them, you knew it all,
and still you watched me fall.
You said you came back out of guilt,
and left me with what you rebuilt.

You kissed me like a dare,
then left me standing there.
You turned our place to quiet air,
and I can’t find myself anywhere.

[Final Chorus – powerful, breaking free]
The bench, the light, the sound,
I tore it to the ground.
You smiled while I drowned,
and called it moving on somehow.

The sand still clings to me,
like the way you used to be.
The playground didn’t know —
you never meant to grow.

You never meant to grow.
But I did.