in the gaps

I lied to you,
when I said I didn’t know.
Feigned ignorance
to what you truly wanted.

Held your hand,
and acted like I didn’t feel your squeezes,
as if I’d forgotten
our secret language.

Why?
Because it was easier
than letting you see
what I kept buried.

You were a mirror
I couldn’t face.
Every glance threw back
my sharp edges,
my quiet fears,
and you met them
with love I couldn’t hold.

I built excuses.
Found reasons.
Named you too much
when you were only asking
to be loved properly.

And I wasn’t ready.
Too selfish,
too guarded,
too scared to be vulnerable.

So I broke you,
not all at once,
but slowly,
with absence,
with hesitation,
with the weight of silence.

And still,
you stayed.
Offered me everything
when I gave you pieces.

I told myself I needed space.
That maybe love had gone.
But if that were true,
Why does your love still shape me?
Why do I search for you in every face?

Tried to convince myself
I was moving on.

But in truth,
I was running away.

And when I stopped,
it was too late.

I'd stayed with someone
who never felt like home,
hoping I’d feel again
what I once felt with you.