Maybe

Why do you claim to care, yet act like I’m just… there? Why is my love so clear, and yours a fog I cannot steer? Why must I carry the weight of doubts you won’t alleviate? Why do I sit in insecurity, while you hide behind ambiguity? You say “there’s something there,” but leave me gasping in thin air. You keep me guessing, lost in the ache— knowing full well how much it breaks. You joked about enjoying my misery… and now I wonder — was it comedy or cruelty? We laughed about breaking me down, but I was already shattered, wearing that crown. So now I ask: Should I have been like you— distant, guarded, giving nothing too? Because you had my all and gave back smoke, held me in riddles, and called it a joke. I tried to walk, I really did, but you held me with words you never hid— not truths, but threads I couldn’t untwine, vague words and a mind full of “maybe” signs.