Pity the fool that fumbled me
thought love was free,
but nothing real comes without a fee.
Unconditional? Nah, I had conditions
like loyalty, truth,
and no double lives or hidden missions.

My heart ain’t healed,
just stitched up in silence,
still bleeds slow
from past love’s violence.
I gave it whole, I gave it loud
they left me hollow
but still I’m proud.

To the next soul who dares to stay,
I’ll hand you the ruins,
I won’t make you pay—
but know this truth before you fall:
you’re getting pieces,
not the all.

You’ll get my scars, my sacred mess,
my tired eyes that still confess
I want to love, I want it true,
but I no longer chase
what won’t choose me too.

So take what’s left, but tread it right,
I’m done with war disguised as light.
If you love me,
love the broken parts,
‘cause I’ve already died
a thousand starts.