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217
ATË: THE DELUSION THAT RUINS
<p><span style="background-color: transparent;">You called it love. </span></p><p>I called it the long apprenticeship of vanishing.</p><p><br/></p><p>You held me with both hands </p><p>until the vessel cracked. </p><p><br/></p><p>You said you were mending me. </p><p>Piece by piece you unstitched the seams </p><p>and sewed what remained into a shape that fit your palm.</p><p><br/></p><p>You drained the color from my walls </p><p>and poured your dusk into the plaster. </p><p> </p><p>You emptied the songs from my mouth </p><p>and pressed your words against my tongue until it learned obedience.</p><p><br/></p><p>When I looked into the glass </p><p>I found your shadow </p><p>standing where my face had been.</p><p><br/></p><p>You called it love </p><p>when every fragment that refused your likeness was named a wound in need of surgery. </p><p><br/></p><p>And perhaps you meant well. That is the softest blade.</p><p><br/></p><p>You cradled the knife and kissed the cut while it still bled. </p><p><br/></p><p>Each time I tried to name the pain </p><p>you counted the ledger of your gifts </p><p>until my hurt became an unpaid debt.</p><p><br/></p><p>How many pieces of myself </p><p>must I leave like offerings </p><p>before you finally say I am whole?</p><p><br/></p><p>I stayed quiet </p><p>and watched the rooms of my life grow smaller. </p><p>Doors sealed. Friendships thinned to smoke. </p><p>Dreams shrank to whispers. </p><p>I stopped asking what I wanted. </p><p>I asked only what would keep your peace.</p><p><br/></p><p>That was the hour I knew I was already gone.</p><p><br/></p><p>When I finally spoke, </p><p>you built a monument of every sacrifice </p><p>and stood beside it, radiant, </p><p>while I stood beneath it, buried.</p><p><br/></p><p>You loved the version still wet with your hands. You never loved the living one <span style="background-color: transparent;">already half-erased.</span></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>I cannot spend the rest of my days </p><p>grateful for a cage. </p><p>simply because you lined it with silk </p><p>and called the bars devotion.</p><p><br/></p><p>So this is where I step out. </p><p>Not because you never loved me. </p><p><br/></p><p>Love can be real </p><p>and still be the delusion that ruins.</p><p><br/></p><p>The bravest thing left </p><p>is to walk away </p><p>from the one who keeps insisting </p><p>that my quiet destruction </p><p>is the purest form o<span style="background-color: transparent;">f their love.</span></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p>
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