Love & Lies

Silent tears fall—

fall—

fall—

louder than your voice ever was.

Truth flickers, dies, flickers again,

like it’s warning me and I’m too slow to hear it.

---

I whispered apologies—too many, too fast—

hoping one might make you stay,

but you were already gone.

Fell in love, fell apart,

fell through the cracks you left in me.

Your silence wasn’t silence—

it was a blade,

and I kept pretending it didn’t cut.

All I wanted was a place in your chest—

but you kept moving the door,

locking it, losing the key,

calling it “bad timing.”

---

I didn’t want war, didn’t want scars,

didn’t want to fight shadows shaped like you.

But they creep—

creep—

creep—

every time you lie,

every time you say “it’s not that deep.”

Your eyes hold secrets—too sharp,

and every time I look,

I lose another piece of myself.

---

I’m sorry I fell in love with you—

sorry—sorry—sorry—

like the word might undo the damage.

Sorry I became a burden—

or maybe you needed me to think I did.

Sorry I was an inconvenience—

your label,

your echo,

your favorite excuse.

All I wanted was love—

true, real, steady—

but you kept handing me smoke.

---

Caught in the crossfire—

but you said there was no war,

said I was “too sensitive,”

while you loaded another lie.

You froze me out—

then said you weren’t cold,

said you were “busy,”

said you “didn’t want to fight.”

I fought for us—

for you—

for something you’d already buried.

Love’s a battlefield—

but you never showed up.

---

I stayed—too long, too blindly.

I fought—for nothing, for everything.

I cried—in rooms that felt smaller every night.

You watched—

watched—

watched—

like it wasn’t your fire burning me down.

---

I’m sorry I fell in love with you—

sorry—sorry—sorry—

a reflex I can’t kill.

Sorry I became a burden—

or maybe you made me one.

Sorry I was an inconvenience—

your echo,

your residue.

All I wanted was love—

true—real—steady—

but you kept giving me smoke.

---

I hate the tears,

hate the ache,

hate the way my chest tightens at your name.

Heartbreak hits—again, again, again—

like it’s stuck on repeat.

You turned warmth into cold,

cold into distance,

distance into disdain—

and I kept calling it love.

---

Love shouldn’t cut this deep,

shouldn’t carve these wounds.

I loved you too hard, too blindly.

Now I’m trying—trying—trying—

to find my way out

before the spiral takes me whole.