The Weight of Not Leaving

i used to pray you’d ruin me softly,
like maybe destruction could feel gentle
if it came from someone i loved.

you whispered about peace
and kissed like chaos.
i waited in your shadows,
hoping you'd come back for me
with light.

your silence became a language
i had to teach myself not to answer.
you were always almost mine
never enough to stay,
but too much to forget.

i loved you too loudly,
and maybe that made you flinch.
maybe loyalty feels like a cage
to people who never had a home.

i read too much in your in betweens,
your half smiles,
the way you’d never say goodbye
just vanish like you hoped i wouldn’t notice.

you kept my name on your lips
like it was a sin you couldn’t confess.
and every almost
felt like a promise dressed in haze

i stitched my worth to your attention,
until i realized
even the softest ghost
still haunts.

but im done being the echo
in someone else’s silence.
so here’s my final mercy
if you can’t stay,
then don’t linger.