Say It With Your Chest

Since you never say the truth,

I’ll say it for you.

Loud.

Clear.

No shaking.

No excuses.

Say it with your chest,

’cause I’m done pretending.

⸻

You didn’t “get overwhelmed,”

you didn’t “need a minute,”

you switched up

because you liked the attention somewhere else

and you didn’t know how to finish

what you started with me.

You were texting me one way on Monday,

acting distant by Wednesday,

and lying to yourself on Friday

about why you were pulling away.

You weren’t confused.

You were guilty.

And the worst part?

You thought I wouldn’t feel it.

⸻

And when I asked what was wrong,

you froze.

You couldn’t even look me in the eyes

because you knew exactly what you were doing

and didn’t wanna own it.

⸻

Here’s the truth:

You didn’t fall out of love,

you fell into comfort.

You didn’t “take space,”

you took the easy exit.

You didn’t protect my heart,

you protected your lie.

And now you’re creeping back slowly

hoping I don’t make you say

what you did.

Say it with your chest.

Admit it:

You left,

you lied,

you folded,

you ran.

Not because of me —

because you’re scared

of real love

and real truth.

⸻

Funny how now

you’re gentle again.

Funny how now

your eyes linger again.

Funny how now

you hug me longer,

talk softer,

walk slower,

like you’re afraid I might slip away.

You went searching for “easy,”

but it didn’t give you peace.

It gave you emptiness,

and now you look at me

like you finally see

what you threw away.

And instead of admitting it,

you show up

halfway,

quiet,

careful,

trying not to expose

your own regret.

⸻

But I see through that.

I see through all of that.

You don’t move slick,

you move scared.

⸻

Say it with your chest.

Say the truth you run from:

You didn’t pick better,

you picked easier.

You didn’t move on,

you distracted yourself.

You didn’t lose me,

you left me

before you had the courage

to admit it.

And now you’re back

in slow motion,

hoping I accept

your silence as apology.

Say it with your chest.

You can’t.

Because you know I’m right.

⸻

You cracked first.

Not me.

You came back first.

Not me.

You felt the loss first.

Not me.

You realized what you dropped.

Not me.

So don’t pretend like I’m still the one broken

when you’re the one showing up

with all that guilt in your eyes.

⸻

I don’t need an apology.

I don’t need a speech.

Just stop acting like you didn’t know

what the hell you were doing

when you left.

And if you ever get brave enough?

Say it with your chest.

Not silence.

Not mixed signals.

Not fear.

Not slow steps.

Truth.

Until then—

I know exactly who you are

and exactly what you did.