You treated me so well it actually hurt.
For a second there, I realized I’d never been loved—
not really, not like that.
You showed me where the bar was,
you let me feel what it was like to finally breathe,
and then you just… left.
Why did you do all that when you were going to leave anyway?
Why bother with the kindness?
The late nights, the soft words, the way you looked at me—
was it all just a rehearsal for this silence?
You spent months building a pedestal
just so the fall would break my bones.
You found me at sea level and convinced me I belonged in the clouds.
You raised me so high,
taught me how it felt to have the sun on my face,
and then you just let go.
How am I supposed to go back to the way things were?
I can't un-know what you showed me.
I can't pretend I’m okay with the crumbs
now that I’ve sat at your table.
If you knew this was the ending,
why did you make the beginning so beautiful?
Why give me a home
just to lock the door from the inside?
I was fine in the dark before I knew what I was missing.
Now, I’m just falling,
and the air is too thin to breathe
