I counted every strike,
Every whisper, every shadow, every knife of your gaze.
The disrespect, the lies, the mind games;
I wore them like scars in my chest,
Hoping, hoping, hoping that the chaos could be tamed.
I stayed,
Thinking patience could change you,
I bore your chaos like it was mine,
Hoping for something real in a place built on illusion.
But some things cannot be fixed.
Some hearts cannot bend.
And I saw, too late,
I could not mend what wasn’t mine to fix.
I stepped out of the wreckage,
Let your lies fester, let your shadows coil where they belong.
Carrying only what I could call my own...
The weight of everything I survived,
Every scar I bear is a line I will not erase, a story that still breathes.
Micko.
9.Nov.2025
Dec 1, 2025
Dec 1, 2025 at 1:04 AM UTC
I counted every strike,
Every whisper, every shadow, every knife of your gaze.
The disrespect, the lies, the mind games;
I wore them like scars in my chest,
Hoping, hoping, hoping that the chaos could be tamed.
I stayed,
Thinking patience could change you,
I bore your chaos like it was mine,
Hoping for something real in a place built on illusion.
But some things cannot be fixed.
Some hearts cannot bend.
And I saw, too late,
I could not mend what wasn’t mine to fix.
I stepped out of the wreckage,
Let your lies fester, let your shadows coil where they belong.
Carrying only what I could call my own...
The weight of everything I survived,
Every scar I bear is a line I will not erase, a story that still breathes.
Micko.
9.Nov.2025
