I sit with silence heavy in my chest,
A weight no words have ever addressed.
He walks past like I’m just a breeze,
Never knowing he brings me to my knees.

He doesn’t know me, not really, not deep,
He only sees when I mess up or weep.
And every harsh word, every cold eyed glance,
Kills me slowly, like a second chance
That never comes.

I wish he knew how I swallow my cries,
How behind my anger, my true self lies.
I say I hate him but I swear it’s not true,
I just hate the way he makes me feel blue.
Because if I didn’t love him this much,
His distance, his choices wouldn’t hurt as such.

I wish the past hadn’t torn our home in two,
I wish they’d fought to stay, instead of pushing through.
I wish he made smarter moves.
God, don’t you see?
I wish he had chosen to fix this for me.
But I hate this family, this fractured thing,
Held together with pain and old remembering.

Yet in the middle of this chaos, these storms I hide,
Are my siblings, my heartbeat, my pride.
They don’t know how often they’ve saved my soul,
How they’re the reason I haven’t lost control.

Sometimes I dream of letting go,
Of the tears, the pain, the endless “no.”
Of being someone better, someone real.
Not what they assume, but what I feel.
Free not judged, not broken, not small,
Just standing, for once, and not ready to fall.

I want to be happy. Just once, just me.
Not pretending, not pleasing, but finally free.
I want to smile and mean it. Not fake, not forced.
To love without wounds, to live without remorse.

But until that day, I write these lines,
In the quiet between my broken signs.
Hoping he sees, or maybe someday hears,
The truth buried under all these years.

I loved him.
I love him.
Even when it hurts too much.
And I wish that could be enough.