I know I shouldn’t ache like this, I do,
You were never mine, not in word or vow.
Yet watching you with him, some part withdrew,
Like losing something sacred, even now.

I saw the signs, you turned your gaze away,
Laughed softer, answered slower, broke the thread.
But still I stitched my hope into each day,
Pretending you were paused—not gone, not led.

You never lied. You never called it love.
I wrote those dreams in ink you never touched.
You said “we’re friends,” and I said “close enough,”
While shaking hands betrayed I cared too much.

Now he walks with you where I once would dare,
My silence roars, and still I call it fair.