They don't say it,
but the silence speaks volumes.
The room feels smaller now,
the distance between us
stretching with every breath I take.
I reached out for their hands,
hoping for warmth,
but their eyes turned cold.
They couldn't understand
why I needed to change,
why my skin,
my voice,
my heart
no longer fit the shape
they had given me.
And so, I learned the hard way:
sometimes love means letting go,
even when you don't want to.
I carry the weight of their absence
like a stone in my chest,
but the stone sharpens my edges
and makes me stronger.