You offered love,
but it learned the shape of a collar.
The moment it closed around me,
I ran—not away,
but toward air.
Still, the pull followed,
a quiet cruelty that never loosened.
Time did what it always does—
it stayed.
And I sank inside it,
learning how to drown
without making a sound.
Morning found me praying for an ending.
Night answered with the same silence.
Hope thinned.
Breath became work.
Then—
just as I stepped toward myself,
toward change,
your hand tightened.
That was when I let go.
Not of you—
of me.
You kept my body near,
a presence that obeyed.
But my spirit learned to live elsewhere,
where you could not reach.
I watched your sadness,
your joy,
your breaking—
as if through glass.
Nothing crossed into me,
because nothing was ever allowed to.
You called me happy.
But when did you ever ask
what happiness felt like
inside my chest?
Real joy leaves a mark.
Something unforgettable.
I carry none of it.
Only the memory
of a leash
disguised as love.
Jan 19
Jan 19, 2026 at 7:52 AM UTC
You offered love,
but it learned the shape of a collar.
The moment it closed around me,
I ran—not away,
but toward air.
Still, the pull followed,
a quiet cruelty that never loosened.
Time did what it always does—
it stayed.
And I sank inside it,
learning how to drown
without making a sound.
Morning found me praying for an ending.
Night answered with the same silence.
Hope thinned.
Breath became work.
Then—
just as I stepped toward myself,
toward change,
your hand tightened.
That was when I let go.
Not of you—
of me.
You kept my body near,
a presence that obeyed.
But my spirit learned to live elsewhere,
where you could not reach.
I watched your sadness,
your joy,
your breaking—
as if through glass.
Nothing crossed into me,
because nothing was ever allowed to.
You called me happy.
But when did you ever ask
what happiness felt like
inside my chest?
Real joy leaves a mark.
Something unforgettable.
I carry none of it.
Only the memory
of a leash
disguised as love.