I loved you for ten long years,
through silence, struggle, sweat, and tears.
We dreamed beneath the same grey sky,
built castles from nothing, you and I.

I held your hand through every storm,
when the world turned cold, I kept you warm.
You had no name, no job, no pride—
but still, I stayed right by your side.

We spoke of futures, made our plans,
I bore our child with trembling hands.
I traveled far just to see your face,
ignoring hunger, time, and place.

I gave you love without a price,
I paid in faith, not once but twice.
And still, when fortune found your door,
you gave me love no more.

You wore success like a new skin,
but left me stranded where we'd been.
Your heart turned cold, your words unkind,
you left me in the dark, behind.

You cheated lies into my bed,
while calling strangers love instead.
You laughed while I broke down inside,
my sanity no place to hide.

I screamed, I shook, I lost my way,
became someone I’d never say.
A woman torn from love gone wrong—
but even shattered, I stayed strong.

Now here I stand, not yours, not less,
no longer drowning in that mess.
You broke me, yes—but not for good.
I rose again, as I should.

One day you'll look, and I’ll be gone,
a storm you lost, a strength hard-won.
And all that love you cast aside
will bloom in someone else's life.

Never did I think that I would encounter it so soon—
This silent torment,
This weight that seeps beneath the skin and settles in the soul.

It is a pain that carves deep,
Like a scar etched across time—unfading,
A thunderclap in the heart,
Shattering dreams in a single strike,
Tearing through every fragile hope I held close.

It is the kind of pain that drowns your eyes in tears,
The kind that whispers doubt in every quiet moment.
And still, you ask yourself,
Why me?
Why must I endure this endless ache,
This hollow echo of something lost?

I was left devastated,
Alone in a crowd,
Smiling on the surface while crumbling within.

I tried to breathe—
But the pain clung to my lungs,
Heavy as regret,
Sharp as shame.

And yet—
Amid the darkness, a truth began to bloom:
This is not the end.
This failure, though cruel, is not my undoing.

It is a stepping stone, not a gravestone.
A part of the journey, not the final chapter.
A path that winds through hurt,
But leads—eventually—
To strength, to growth, to success.

So yes, it is painful.
But pain is not defeat.
It is proof that I am still trying.
Still rising.
Still becoming.