Are you the reason they left,
the reason sorrow filled the house
and love slid out before dawn?
You say you care,
but every word rings hollow,
the stench of promises rotting between us.

Denial wraps itself around you,
selfishness you can’t outgrow.
Every burden you carry
leaks out of you.
We learned to live with the smell.

Where were you
when the ones who needed you
waited for hands, for presence,
for anything but another promise
left to spoil in the dark?
You talked about hope,
but the people closest
never heard a word.

You left those who waited,
turned away from the ones who reached for you.
All your promises vanished,
lost to wandering,
comfort, numbness, anything
to keep from facing what you left undone.

I know your secrets.
The mood swings, the restless ache,
the way your own heart
sometimes frightens you.
I see you drift
further from the ones you once called home,
a wall growing thicker,
the silence pressing in.

If these nights could confess...

Strangers.
Meaningless bodies.
Lies spun to fill the quiet.

You ran from the truth,
but everything broken
returns to you.

Something breaks each day.
You see yourself
still there,
still no escape.

I know your secrets.
Don’t force my hand.
The weight you carry
pulls you closer to the edge.

If the mirror could speak,
it would whisper:

“Time’s up. You gotta go.”

Sometimes I wish the darkness
had swallowed you whole.
Sometimes I wish
you could feel what you made
the rest of us feel.

But the truth is,
I know the winter inside you,
how despair drifts down,
how even in a crowded room
you stand alone in falling snow.

I’m broken,
but not like you.
You can’t find your way back.
Your heart’s grave
is one you dug yourself.

If I let your secrets loose,
the world would see
no shelter stands against that dark,
and the piece of you
forever plotting escape
is the only honest thing
you’ve carried all along.