Stop, heart
she doesn’t love you.
Beat steady, act right,
don’t beg.

I want to be in her life,
but not like this
not selfish, not weak,
not drowning in my own need.

Man up.
Let her go.
But my heart
won’t listen to a word.

I love you without boundaries,
yet your truth shatters my silence.
In your light, I wither,
a quiet despair screaming in the dark.

You left, I unraveled.
Not gracefully, not quietly,
tore myself apart in the open
where the world could see.
You wouldn’t have recognized me then.
I wasn’t the boy you loved anymore.
I was a shadow dragging his own weight,
a ghost haunted by his own body.

I said things,
did things,
became someone even I couldn’t stomach.
But that wasn’t me.
That was the wreckage
of losing you.

you don’t just leave someone.
You take pieces with you.
the pieces you took,
the ones that made me whole.

Now I sit with the ruin,
misunderstood and misplaced,
I’d give anything,
anything,
to show you
I’m still him.
The boy you once loved.
If you’d just let me,
I could be him.

It was always you.
And it was never me.
I loved like a flood,
you sipped like a breeze.

I built a home in my chest for you,
and you walked through it
like a stranger passing by,
leaving the door open behind you.

Her absence cuts deep,
not because I’m alone,
but because she was the piece
that made it all whole.

In your absence, I crumble, I fade, I burn,
A love so pure, I can never return.
For even I, who once held the night,
Am shattered by love’s unyielding bite.

I don’t blame you.
Love can’t be forced to bloom.
But I wish you had stayed,
just once,
long enough to notice
how much of me was yours.