Freezing in your warm grip.
I don’t want to blame you —
you were never at fault.
You grew tired of sneaking around my shards,
too afraid of cutting me
to be yourself.

I am fragile,
hurt,
but I never meant
to turn you into that —
into something heavy with worry,
something stitched from empathy.
I never wanted your voice
to be a balm for my chaos.

You should have been the hammer,
breaking the glass around me
so I could finally breathe.
Help rebuild me —
if it’s not too late.

I know I pushed you away.
And the echo of that loss
has made me bitter,
too bitter to let you return.
This eternal, internal battle
will be the end
of the person you once loved.

The loss of you
will leave me changed —
not ruined,
but never the same.

Shadows of the words I said
cast darkness onto your sunlight.
I blocked the light from reaching you.
I stopped you from growing —
from blooming
into something beautiful.

The hot sand burned my feet
as we walked
side by side,
hand in hand.

But love,
spelled backwards,
is evol.

And as we rewind,
all I see
is how I hurt you.