Love wasn’t soft with us.
It was claws and knives,
a hunger in your eyes
that bled every time we touched.

You whispered sweet lies
but I heard the truth—
your love was a shadow
waiting to swallow me whole.

I didn’t leave.
I let you carve your name
into my skin
because I believed
that if I bled enough,
you’d finally be real.

But love,
like ******,
always leaves evidence.

And now, I can’t erase
the bloodstains
of you
from my heart.