Untitled Love

I once wrote words that spoke of moments of vulnerability and safety 

I see those moments through different eyes…

…now

Were you really coming to offer me cover, or was I so engulfed in the cloud of broken promises, disregard, and disrespect that I couldn't see that the fire I was taking was friendly 

Ten thousand shattered pieces of a broken heart laid out on the battlefield of what was once our love 

Our love

It seems silly to say as I play the years back like a broken record that time and trauma forgot 

Can it be called love when I begged for connection and was met with derision

Can it be called love when I asked to be seen and my light was meticulously obscured through the shadow of your unaddressed demons 

Can it be called love when it left me worse than when it found me

I see those moments of vulnerability and safety through different eyes, now 

I run the memory tape back with the precision of an oracle reading tea leaves 

They tell the stories of lies told to protect egos that weren't mine 

Of half-truths spoken in darkness, for they feared what the light of day would expose

I see those moments of vulnerability and safety through different eyes

I see me alone on the floor in tears because my heart didn't know how it could handle another ache 

I see the hollowness behind my eyes as you smile cheek to cheek, each crease in your face paid for with the whispers of my soul 

I see it all clearly now because for the first time I see those moments of vulnerability and safety through the eyes of a woman who doesn't love you anymore

There are no more moments to see for the light of day has laid bare the reality of what was and what is and what will be, for there is no longer a you and me 

Copyright(c) 2025 Rayven Holmes