Kissed Me Like You Meant It, Then Left Like You Didn’t
You held my face like it was fragile glass,
Looked me dead in the heart — not just the eyes —
And whispered promises too soft for liars.
Your lips spelled forever.
Your hands wrote safety on my skin.
I memorized the rhythm of your breath,
Mapped your touch like holy scripture,
And swore you were the ending to all my aching.
I drank your affection like truth
Only to find it was sugar-coated exit wounds.
You kissed me like I was the only thing that mattered,
But left like I was an old voicemail you finally deleted.
No fight. No warning. Just… quiet.
Like love was something you borrowed
And forgot to return.
I replay the night you kissed me —
How your mouth knew my name
But your heart already knew goodbye.
I don’t know what hurt more:
That you left,
Or that you made leaving look easy.
My Heart is Tired of Breaking for You
I’ve stitched it up too many times—
with trembling hands
and shaky prayers,
this heart of mine,
bleeding behind every smile
you didn’t notice.
You come and go
like heartbreak has no consequence,
like my ribs aren’t prisons
trapping pieces of a love
you keep killing softly.
I used to wait for your messages
like morning waits for the sun—
certain you’d come,
but lately, you’re just the night
pretending to care with stars
while hiding your darkness.
I screamed in silence.
Cried in crowded rooms.
Swallowed my pride
like bitter medicine
and still told myself “They love me. They’re just tired.”
But it’s me who’s tired now.
Tired of bleeding for someone
who won’t even flinch at the mess.
Tired of being the only one
trying to glue us back
with hope that dries too fast.
My heart—
this loyal, foolish heart—
is tired of breaking for you.
Tired of calling your name
into the void you became.
Tired of saving a seat
in a future you never planned to stay for.
So this is the last poem
you’ll ever star in.
The final chapter
you never thought I’d write.
I’m not heartless.
I’m just tired.
And for once—
I’m choosing me.
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