I wasn’t the shape you needed, so you shattered me,
Tried to bend my edges, force me into the hollow you wouldn’t fill.
You never stayed to teach me the ache behind your silence,
You found quicker comfort, a more convenient, disposable face.
You ran to her, she’s “easier,” she’s your light,
She’s what I couldn’t be while I bled to hold us together,
You traded a year of depth for shallow, heartless comfort,
And left me raw, standing in the frostbitten dark.
I hope she gives you every ounce of what you ache for,
The ego-stroke, the hush, the soft, forgettable comfort.
I hope you’re happy as you dig our love’s quiet grave,
While you press every splinter of my heart into dust.
Does she know she’s a bandage over a wound you made yourself?
Does she see the blood on your hands from what we were?
You found “fulfillment” in a stranger’s hollow stare,
While killing the only heart that truly dared to know you.
So go, be “complete” in her unfamiliar embrace,
Forget the promises that crumbled to dust and stone.
I’ll stay here with the echoes of the lies you called promises,
Learning how to breathe again, lungs raw, entirely alone.
You found your comfort, your easy, coward’s exit,
Now I’ll pull the knife out of my own back.