You said “I love you” with someone else in your bed
Touched my back like a secret you thought you could keep fed
Told me you missed me when I was two states away
Like my absence gave you a reason to go play
And you called it “respect” when you offered your couch
But your hands said different and your mouth stayed loud
You said I could stay, then pulled me apart
You don’t want a partner—you want a place to park
You don’t get my body without my permission
You don’t get my light when you run from your vision
You said love like it was penance
Like I was some indulgent sentence
You could speak to make you clean
But I am not your in-between
You said you cheated to get back at her ghost
As if your wreckage ever needed a host
You used me like a mirror—just to check your teeth
Then kissed the edge and called it grief
You said, “You told me to be respectful”
As if that was an apology
You meant “I’ll do just enough to not feel guilty”
While I stand here bleeding
You don’t get my body without my permission
You don’t get my mind as your exposition
I was never a subplot in your script
Never asked to audition for this trip
You loved me like a locked room
And I loved you like a wound
I see you
Finally
As a coward with a compass made of rust
You want love, but not the dust
Not the cleaning, not the trust
Just the fantasy
And the fuss
You don’t get my body without my permission
You don’t get my soul like some ghost transmission
I’m not the story you retell to feel strong
I was the place you never belonged
So call it love—call it sin
But you don’t get to come back in
[Outro]
No more
No permission
No more
No permission