She stands in front of him,
heart exposed and trembling,
bleeding truth into the silence
while he watches without flinching.
She cries out in agony
like it might wake something in him—
remorse,
compassion,
a single sign
that she is not invisible.
She calls it love
when he breaks her gently.
Calls it patience
when she is the only one waiting.
He breaks her down—
body, voice, mind, heart—
watches her unravel into a mess,
sometimes in his arms
as if comfort erases the damage.
Day after day she exposes her pain.
The lies are uncovered,
but he won’t change.
She swears she sees light in his eyes,
a glimmer worth saving—
meanwhile
her self-worth is steadily fading
from staying.
Now time has passed,
and the dark has shown its form.
The mask slips slowly—
what felt safe
was only a storm.
She wants to run.
She wants to stay.
She doesn’t realize
The glow she chased
Was only her own soul
reflected in his face
Hope keeps her anchored
where pain keeps repeating.
She tosses and turns, for her there is no sleeping
She waits for him
to finally see her
But she deserves freedom.
To exhale.
To live without shrinking,
to stop placing her worth
on someone else’s shelf.
She deserves to choose herself
without guilt clawing at her ribs.
She keeps choosing others
because she knows what it feels like
not to be chosen.
So she clings to the familiar ache,
even when her spirit is frozen.
How do I tell her—
You cannot carry
what he won’t repair.
You cannot grow
what refuses care.
But she is so generous,
so endlessly kind,
she does not see
what he has decided in his mind.
She is forgiving.
She is loyal.
She mistakes endurance
for something royal.
Her heart cages her,
and time is fleeting.
She deserves
the love she gives
so freely.
M
She stands in front of him, heart exposed and trembling, bleeding truth into…
