It's about loooooooooove

I loved you through it all,
The highs, the lows and
Everything in between but
Even as every single wall
Came down with your hand
In mine perfectly it was what
Tore our love into tiny pieces.
Some love is right there like
A shiny new toy and reaches
The stars but ours is on strike
And sits on an abandoned
Shelf, all alone and collecting
Dust along with the flattened
Sense of hope. It is reflecting
On you, not me as I always
Loved you, but you loved me
Far too late when yesterdays
Fade away into weeks. You see
Me for who I really am months
Too late. By then I have already
Moved to someone who confronts
Everything head on with a steady
Presence instead of waiting in
The shadows and for him to love
Me better than you could on even
Ground. So where did the pieces of
Love go when we both fled the scene?
We walked away with hands finally clean.