A soft place I needed

I gave you the softest parts of me, Not because I was weak But because I believed That love, when real, Should be a place to breathe. I folded my past like paper, Set it aside for a future with you. Tore pages from my comfort, Wrote promises in ink Because you said, "This time, it’s safe to hope." But silence grew where your words once lived. And in the stillness, I learned That peace cannot be borrowed, That trust must be tended Not torn by secrets And selfish glances at old fires You swore were long gone. So now I stand, Unanchored, unsure But not undone. Even when the roof fell in, I kept the foundation: My spirit. My truth. My heart, cracked — but mine. You were supposed to be the soft place. But I’ve become it. For myself. So maybe I go back To the house that never held me But I will carry light. And one day, I will walk into rooms I built myself, And never again beg to feel safe.