I tried meeting you where you stood,
made silence feel like something good.
I kept on folding just to cope,
called it patience, called it hope.

I bent so far I lost my shape,
mistook your fear for some escape.
Held space for you, but not for me —
kept calling strain a kind of peace.

You brushed off things I said were deep,
then blamed me when I couldn’t sleep.
I swallowed truth to keep you still —
but I’m not choking on your will.

I won’t turn off my own desires,
or play it cool to keep things calm.
I’m done setting myself on fire,
just to keep on keeping you warm