You lost me slowly.
Not in one fight.
Not in one lie.
But in the repeated moments
where I needed honesty and
received excuses instead.
I kept fixing things you broke,
including parts of myself.
I carried the weight of us while
you acted like love alone was
enough to cover the damage.
One day I realized I was begging
for the bare minimum from
someone gave my everything to.
That was the day I
started choosing myself.