You
ripped me open
like I was gift wrap around a bomb—
not a girl.
Tore through the softest parts of me
with hands that once promised safety.
Then smiled.

I bled silence.
I rotted in the hollow you made,
buried under memories you set on fire
just to warm someone else.

And now—
you greet me.
Smile like a Sunday stroll,
like you didn’t
shoot love point-blank
and whistle while walking away
from the grave you dug in my chest.

You left me
gasping in the dirt,
still calling your name
like it was a ******* prayer.
But you—
you were just the devil
dressed in second chances.

So don’t you dare look at me
with that crooked grin,
like I’m still the fool
you left in that pit.

You didn't break me—
you woke something
that will never sleep again.
And I hope
it haunts you.

I tended a garden once,
behind walls too low,
in a pasture too wide.

The vines reached for strangers
with reckless kindness,
begging to be named beautiful.

You came with smoke clinging to your sleeves,
promises falling from your mouth,
and I, fool that I was,
welcomed you.

With greedy hands, you plucked petals,
stepped on seeds meant for tomorrow,
your breath embers against my harvest.

The skies darkened.
The rivers boiled.
The orchard withered from root to leaf.

And there I stood,
ash stuck to my skin,
silence heavier than stone.

I stayed to bury what you left behind:
The wilted vines,
the broken promises,
the ruined songs.

From the shattered soil,
I built a citadel from broken things.
It stands, heavy and hollow,
Strong enough for silence to live inside.

I am no longer waiting
for careless hands to stumble upon me.
I do not open gates for ghosts.
I hope their hands break before they knock.

Oh the stars and moonlight
The stunning shine
But that shine is not enough to get you out of my mind
Morning walks
While we just talk
Nights on the grass
While we wish for time to not pass
Stuck in our own world
Were it's just us
The sun rises
And I too arise
Look to my right
And you are not in my sight
For you, my darling
Only live in my dreams

I know how to carry pain
not like a burden,
but like a second skin.
I've walked through fire in silence,
kissed betrayal on the cheek
and called it by name.

I know bad words.
Not just the ones they speak,
but the ones they plant
in the soil of a soft heart
and leave to grow wild.

I've tasted different traits
bitterness sweetened by charm,
gentleness sharpened to a blade.
I've danced with shadows in daylight
and called it love.

But this one...
this is new.

This ache that lives in my ribs,
this grief that kicks from inside,
this quiet war I fight
while smiling, while feeding,
while staying alive.

Excuse me,
but I’ve never been pregnant
with someone else's cruelty before.
Excuse me
if I need space
to untangle this web
before I decide which thread to cut.

I will lie here,
wrapped in blankets and restraint,
saying “I’m fine”
while every door in this house
begs to be torn from its hinges.

I want to set this silence on fire.
I want to burn this version of me
and walk barefoot through the ash
until I meet the woman
waiting on the other side
the one who chose herself.

I’ve known pain.
But this one is new.
And still
I will survive.
Because I have to.
Because I always do.