just because they gave
more than you did
doesn't mean they gave
their all — like you did

I’m not a morning person,
And I’ve never liked birds,
But today I sat outside
With my coffee in hand.

Yeah, it was hot,
But the heat felt good on my skin,
Like the sun was embracing me
As he rose from his slumber,
Like I was the first thing he reached for
When he woke up.

The breeze swayed the grass gently,
Carrying quiet secrets in its sigh,
And for a moment I wondered
If mornings had always felt this kind,
Or if today was just different,
Because I finally let myself enjoy it.

It was a good morning,
My thoughts finally at ease.
I’ve always loved the sunset,
But watching the sky fade
From cool blues to warm hues
Felt special in a way I didn’t expect.

Some days,
it feels like I am outside myself
watching my child-self drown
beneath a skyless surface,
eyes wide, arms reaching,
and I, the adult,
do nothing but stare.

The water is still,
but heavy,
each second dragging me down,
each memory a stone.
My child-self drifts deeper,
hair flowing like seaweed,
a mouth open but silent,
watching the shape of me
blur in the distance.

I see the small hand
reaching upward
not angry,
not afraid,
just desperate
in a quiet, aching way.

And I,
frozen,
feel sorrow crack open
like a fault line,
a grief so old
it forgot how to scream.

I want to dive,
to pull them up,
but my feet won't move.
I don’t know why.

Maybe it’s too late.
Maybe I never learned how.
Maybe I believe I’m the one
who let them fall.

And still,
the hand rises,
the eyes search,
while I remain above,
a ghost
with lungs full of air
and a silence I can’t explain.

A cleaner slate than ever,
All traces scrubbed away,
And while I can admit I was cowardly,
That’s something you’d never say.

I no longer crave your closure,
The whole picture’s clear to see,
It was never about my well-being
You just found someone else to please.

Which makes it extra ******,
Reaching out just to gloat,
You couldn’t leave me be,
Had to shove it down my throat.

It’s changed my whole perception
Of the soul I thought you had,
I believed all that interlinked *******-
So that’s my ******* bad.

Now you open another playbook,
Most likely filled with the same plays,
And I just have to laugh at myself-
That’s just the way of the game.