You chose to move on
and I respect that.
I’m sorry—
truly, deeply sorry—
for destroying us.

I miss us.
I miss the love
that was more attachment
and dependence
than anything else,
but still—
it was something.
It was family.

i got addicted to the emotional roller coaster

now i can't find my balance on steady ground

high hopes and low blows

love bombed me like the fireworks on your birthday

and you convinced me that wasn't the case

but who talks rings and cradles

when my hands have barely touched your soul?

we were still strangers

i should've known

i showed you the demons from my past

you swore you wouldn't hurt me like that

but you went on and did exactly just that

you left me high and dry

abandoned me without a trace

never any rhyme or reason

i made peace without closure

you tucked your tail between your legs

and ran like a scared little boy at the first sign of danger

then of course

just like clockwork

you came crawling back

begging for forgiveness

begging for my hand again

begging for love

but i've already given it to someone else

and unlike you

i have no regrets

because i would rather sit by a warm log fire on a winter's eve

than to shiver at explosive fireworks in the night sky

on any given day

Why did you only love me when I made you proud?
Why didn’t you help me when I asked for it?

Why did you threaten to leave me behind?
To send me away?
To give me to someone else?

Why did you blame your illness on me?
Why did you say I wouldn’t even cry if you died?
Why did you tell me I could leave anytime —
And never show my face again?

Why do you still say things that hurt?

I hate that I can’t talk to you.
I hate that I can’t ask for help —
Can’t ask for something I need, like other kids do.

I hate that I have to hide the cuts.
That I have to lie about the bruises.
That I have to pretend I’m okay.

I hate coming home.

Why did you treat me like an adult when I was still just a child?
Why did you guilt-trip me...
And then confess why you did it —
As if that made it okay?

Why did you do that?
Why did you hurt me like that?

My nails carved scars into my skin,
As if pain could remove the feeling that lingers within.
Blood spills on my body frame
Yet it cannot clear the filth I feel.

I scrub and scrub,
No soap, no water, no time
Can rinse away the weight of shame

How strange this world is
So loud, yet it never heard the screams
That once lingered in those walls

I tried to escape the shadows that gripped my ankles.
To run from the arms that pinned me down.

I choked on silence that was my peace
I tried to ***** out the disgusting taste
But it stuck to the roof of my mouth
A bitter feeling that won’t go away no matter how hard i tried

The bruises faded,
But the memory never did.

My cries for help, once strong
Just disappeared
A small plea for Nothing big.
Time passed
Now it was not where to be seen .

I've been meaning to write this for so long,
To tell you how I see you
Sometimes wrapped in shades of blue,
A quiet calm that lingers in your steps.
And then there are days you glow in purple,
Radiant in the light, like dusk softly kissing the sky.

I love the way your hair finds itself
Tied in a bun, neat and graceful,
Or braided down your back,
Revealing its endless length,
A cascade of midnight flowing free.

Some days, I greet you face to face,
And on others, I linger behind,
Watching you walk away
Thinking how the red of your dress
Dances with the flower in your hair,
A fleeting flame that burns quietly in my mind.

I adore your smile
How it arrives unannounced,
And your eyes
Always glistening, always bright.

I smile, too, when I spot your bus in the morning,
And find myself just hoping -
Hoping to catch a glimpse of you,
As if that alone could brighten my day.

Every evening, when I walk home,
One thought follows me like a shadow
Will I see her today?

My friends know how foolish I am when it comes to you
How your name is carved into every joke they make,
And how no one dares touch
That one red and silver pen
The one that feels like yours somehow.

I keep thinking back to that Teacher’s Day
The way you stood on stage,
Draped in purple,
Frozen in a moment I never want to forget.

And I know
I'll always carry these colors with me,
A canvas painted in shades of you.

A cry in the night
Thin yet sharp
Unheard, yet never unspoken.

Why? Why did they turn away?
Why did my voice fall like a leaf
Trembling and twisting  
yet never caught?
I reached out i swear i did
But not far, not loud
But enough
enough for someone to notice.
Or so I thought.

Was I too small, too plain, too quiet
To be worth the reach of a hand?
Was I too ordinary to be saved?
Too forgettable to be found?

I cried, but no one listened.
I begged, but no one answered.
My voice cracked and broke
And still nothing.

Tell me was I not enough for you ?
Not special enough  to matter to you?

I tried to stand tall,
But my legs shook beneath me.
I tried to be strong,
But my ribs felt too small to hold any breath i took
I swallowed the screams again and again
Until they rotted inside me
Turning my chest tight and until i felt it on my body
Turning my mind into a maze I couldn’t escape , maybe i never will.

I waited.
For a knock at the door,
For a voice to call my name,
For someone or anyone to come see me,
To see the shadows swallowing me whole

But no one came.

So
I learned to smile enough
To keep all the questions away.
I laughed loud enough
To bury the sound of my shattering heart
I wore my strength like armor
Heavy and suffocating
But convincing enough to fool them all.

And still... I waited.
Waited for someone to notice
That under the brave face
Was a soul in great pain

Tell me , was really so easy to forget?
So simple to not care
Did no one see the way I flinched every time
Did no one notice the way I held my breath whenever there footsteps neared my bed

I used to dream that someone would save me that someone would see through the silence
And wrap me in arms that felt safe.
I used to believe that love
real love l
Would find me before I disappeared completely.

But now that I wonder.
Maybe some people aren’t meant to be saved
People like me
Maybe some cries are meant to die out in the night
Forgotten and unheard

And maybe that cry in the night
just maybe.
It was never meant to matter at all.

They say every fable ends with a lesson,
but not every lesson comes with closure.

The Fool did not return to the valley to seek the Fox again. He knew the forest kept what it wanted, and the Fox was now part of that hush.

For two moons, she had been his spring,
a season too brief to be called forever, yet deep enough to change the soil where he stood.

Her laughter had been the wind in his sails,
her presence a shelter against nights when the cold bit deeper than loneliness. And for that short, blazing time, he had believed in warmth again.

But stories are not meant to be cages.
They are meant to be carried, to be told and retold until the ache softens, and the lesson remains even when the faces fade.

So the Fool stepped away from the valley.
He did not rush, nor look back more than once. Because some love is not meant to be reclaimed, only remembered.

And in the quiet of his journey, he realized the truth:
He had loved the Fox as wholly as a heart could love, and though the story had ended, it had given him something precious, the proof that he could love again.

The valley remained behind him.
The road stretched before him.
And somewhere, far away,
the Fox’s laughter still lived in the wind.