You kissed my scars..
Then mocked the blood.

You wanted a girl,
To replace the one you lost
Not grief
Not pain,
Not me.

You saw my soul,
and flinched..
I cried and begged for you,
Till I choked and loved
And you said, “too much.”

I shattered and you said I was too loud,
I begged,
You lied,
I broke.

I built a garden in my chest
with things you never said—
planted hopes in rows of maybes,
where your silence softly spread.

I watered it with almosts,
trimmed the silence like vines,
taught the leaves to chase the light
you never said was mine.

But nothing real grew—
just a heart dressed up as soil,
soft enough to cradle you,
but never meant to spoil.

You were the seed that never stayed,
the wind that kissed, then flew.
And I — the ground where you once rested,
but never rooted you.