For Him

I held you once, not in my arms,
but in the fragile fabric of my dreams,
woven from whispers and shards of hope
that you would see me, know me,
want me as I wanted you.

But how do I bleed truth
to a heart guarded by silence?
Your words, when they came,
were sharp as glass—
splinters in my chest,
piercing every ounce of love
I dared to give.

I have fought battles unseen,
against my own doubts,
against your walls,
against the ghosts of your past
that you refuse to bury.
Do you know what it feels like
to give everything
and still be a stranger to the one you crave?

I’ve burned myself alive
trying to light your way,
yet you stand in the shadows,
arms crossed,
watching me turn to ash.
Is it pride that keeps you there?
Fear?
Or do you simply not care?

I’ve apologized for sins unspoken,
rewritten my story to make space for yours,
only to be met with the cold shoulder
of a man who holds my heart
like a weapon he doesn’t know how to wield.
Do you even want it?

I want to scream at the stars,
at the moon that sees us both,
at the universe that dared
to put your name in my soul.
How dare you haunt me
with the promise of what could be,
yet refuse to meet me halfway?

I’m tired. 
Tired of reaching out
only to find the emptiness
where your love should be.
Tired of hoping that one day
you’ll choose me as fiercely as I chose you.
Tired of loving you
when it feels like breaking myself
just to feel alive.

But even as I write this,
even as my hands tremble
with the weight of my fury and sorrow,
I know I can’t let go.
Not yet.
Not of you.
Not of us.

And that is my greatest pain—
that no matter how much you hurt me,
I will always choose to love you.