I have protested,
we called it “we,”
yet never once
did it become “us.”

I lingered
between hurting and healing,
between trembling fear
and faithful feeling.

We stood
where resilience met ruin,
where every promise
was already undoing.

Since the dawn of days,
I answered your invitation.

You welcomed me
into your world,
quiet,
steady,
beautiful,
yet burdened.

We believed
we could build
a home from hope.

But every corner
kept its sharpened spine;
its roughened edges
borrowed blood from mine.

I wept,
and you came with quiet regret,
sanding every jagged place
you had not mended yet.

So we smiled,
hand in hand,
promising
to walk this land.

Then uneven pathways
stole my stride.
I questioned you,
you stayed beside.

Patiently,
you leveled every stone,
until the road
felt almost like our own.

Again we smiled,
again we swore
to see each other
evermore.

Then came
the thunder.

The sky split open.
Hail fell hard,
cold fists
from a heartless dark.

It struck my skin,
my bones,
my breath.

You watched.

You longed to save me;
I saw it in your eyes.
Tears gathered there
like silent skies.

I called your name.
I begged.
I screamed.
Hope unraveled
at every seam.

You reached,
you strained,
your hands out wide,
yet somehow
never crossed the divide.

Why?

The question
echoed louder
than the storm itself.

When silence returned,
it left me clothed
in wounds and scars.

I could no longer stand.

So I crawled
to the nearest doorstep,
not mine,
but shelter all the same.

I pulled myself upward,
holding the frame,
wearing a smile
that borrowed another name.

My lips were violet,
my mouth split thin;
warm crimson rivers
wandered within.

Still,
I searched for you.

You offered me
a trembling drink.

I reached
for your hand.

You held mine
with eyes gone cold,
and flinched
as though my touch
was more than you could hold.

You staggered,
unsteady,
like someone
drunk on grief.

Then you turned.

Only then
did I see your back,

broken apart,
like puzzle pieces
pulled from the same picture.

I could not tell
what blade
had carved you there,
or what burden
you had carried
without a prayer.

And in that quiet,
where anger
finally learned
to grieve,

I whispered,

I’m sorry, darling.

I did not know. ❤️‍🔥