You came to me with your heart in two hands,
I held it, tender, trusting, blind to the strands
That frayed behind your smile, behind your eyes,
Where truth hid beneath the sweetest lies.
I loved you whole, or so I thought,
But in your mind, my love was caught
In webs of doubt you spun so tight—
You said I never saw you right.
And her, this woman you let in,
A stranger to my skin, my sin,
Now wrapped around your whispered name,
Leaving me broken, burned, ashamed.
You said I couldn’t understand,
As if your love was sleight of hand,
As if my heart was small, naïve,
Too simple to believe, receive.
But no, it’s not your love I fear,
It’s not your truth that draws my tear—
It’s how you turned your back on us,
And buried trust beneath the dust.
I rage, I mourn, I break, I burn,
Watching as the tables turn,
And while you speak of love so wide,
You cut me out, you choose to hide.
So blame me for not knowing you,
For loving all I thought was true,
But don’t pretend my heart was small—
You shattered it with no love at all.
