Sick of it

I’m sick of bleeding for love that won’t stay,

Of giving my all just to be thrown away.

Of chasing a ghost, of playing it cool,

Of being the goddamn emotional mule.

I’ve handed my heart to cowards and thieves,

Who dressed up their lies in sweet little sleeves.

Who took what they wanted, then left without shame—

And somehow I’m the one bearing the blame?

I hate that I hope, I hate that I care,

I hate how love’s never been fucking fair.

I watch all my friends find someone who tries,

While I sit here screaming at uncaring skies.

I gave them the best and they shattered it fast -

Not one ever asked if my heart could outlast.

They loved what was broken, used it, then fled -

Now I tuck myself in with rage in my bed.

And don’t tell me, “Someday, it all will make sense,”

I’m not looking for fate, I’m just sick of pretense.

I’m done playing nice, I’m done staying soft -

This kindness I carry gets thrown and tossed.

So fuck being patient and fuck playing sweet,

I’m done licking wounds at everyone’s feet.

If love wants to find me, it better arrive

With respect in its hands and eyes that don’t lie.

No more sob stories, no more regret -

I’m not a girl they get to forget.

I’m fire, I’m storm, I’m thunder, I’m steel -

And I’ll never again fake what I feel.

~rmc