You call when nights are cold and long,
When he’s not there, and you feel wrong.
I answer still, though deep inside,
I know I’m just your place to hide.
You speak of love like it’s a game,
But never once you said my name
With meaning, with a steady tone—
I’ve always felt I’m not your own.
I watched you dance in others’ light,
While I stayed tucked away from sight.
You kissed with lips that held no truth,
And broke the boy who gave his youth.
You held me close when it was fair,
But dropped me when he reappeared.
You never chose me, not enough—
Yet still, you called this mess “our love.”
Now walk away, I’ve had my fill—
Of empty words and love that kills.
You used my heart, then called it fate—
But love is kind.
And this was hate.
