I didn’t come
because it was too much.
I didn’t speak
because it was too much.
I didn’t throw myself
into your eyes.
Not too little.
Too much.
Deep enough
to think about everything at once.
You were never the wrong person,
just the person meant to leave.
The exact person needed
to teach something painful.
Not for yesterday.
Not for tomorrow.
Not for this life.
Uncertainty tsunami.
End.
Don’t end.
Come.
Don’t come.
Look at me.
Don’t look at me.
Everything from you
burns straight through me.
Did it have to happen like this?
Why you?
Why not you?
All the answers stay open.
About you.
About us.
Was this a game to you?
Sometimes it felt that way.
Like there was never fear
of hurting me.
Just because you looked exciting,
huge enough to destroy my home
and everything living inside me,
didn’t mean you were good for me.
Didn’t mean
you belonged to me.
Begging for it to end.
Begging for it not to end.
Begging you to come.
Begging you not to come.
Running from myself to you,
from you back to myself.
Circles inside circles.
You confuse my mind.
Head pressed into the bed,
still unable to solve you.
Because this was the first.
The first confusion.
The first uncertainty.
The first tsunami.
Everything from you
burns me alive.
Stay.
Don’t stay.
Wanting you gone.
Wanting you here.
And no longer knowing
what to do with that feeling.
Sometimes people try
to outrun tsunamis.
But eventually waves fade
on their own.
Maybe they were never meant
to drown anyone.
Maybe they came
to clear the way.
And maybe the house
had to collapse first
so something stronger
could finally be rebuilt.
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 10:19 AM UTC
I didn’t come
because it was too much.
I didn’t speak
because it was too much.
I didn’t throw myself
into your eyes.
Not too little.
Too much.
Deep enough
to think about everything at once.
You were never the wrong person,
just the person meant to leave.
The exact person needed
to teach something painful.
Not for yesterday.
Not for tomorrow.
Not for this life.
Uncertainty tsunami.
End.
Don’t end.
Come.
Don’t come.
Look at me.
Don’t look at me.
Everything from you
burns straight through me.
Did it have to happen like this?
Why you?
Why not you?
All the answers stay open.
About you.
About us.
Was this a game to you?
Sometimes it felt that way.
Like there was never fear
of hurting me.
Just because you looked exciting,
huge enough to destroy my home
and everything living inside me,
didn’t mean you were good for me.
Didn’t mean
you belonged to me.
Begging for it to end.
Begging for it not to end.
Begging you to come.
Begging you not to come.
Running from myself to you,
from you back to myself.
Circles inside circles.
You confuse my mind.
Head pressed into the bed,
still unable to solve you.
Because this was the first.
The first confusion.
The first uncertainty.
The first tsunami.
Everything from you
burns me alive.
Stay.
Don’t stay.
Wanting you gone.
Wanting you here.
And no longer knowing
what to do with that feeling.
Sometimes people try
to outrun tsunamis.
But eventually waves fade
on their own.
Maybe they were never meant
to drown anyone.
Maybe they came
to clear the way.
And maybe the house
had to collapse first
so something stronger
could finally be rebuilt.