I loved you in silence,
while the world threw stones,
while its hands pressed my face into the ground.
You just watched.
And I—bleeding, breaking—
still thought love meant loyalty.
Nobody should carry wounds like mine,
cracks carved into skin and soul,
scars that whisper every night:
you were never protected.
And yet,
I stand here,
the weight of the world on my bones,
loving still,
but never forgetting.