something dark

I wrote of how you light a room without a try, I told you so, and joy stretched wide across the sky. Sometimes I wish I’d lied. Not because I didn’t love your smile that glow so warm, so bright, but because inside that beauty, I was holding myself too tight. Trapped in a box built from your need of me, Walls made of "forever", with no room to breathe free. Leaving means goodbye. Goodbye means always, unlike the love you called deep in so many ways. Maybe I’ll blame myself for being cold as stone, But your love was quiet poison — it hurt me, yet felt like home. This wasn’t friendship. It wasn’t love in bloom. It was something dark that grew inside a perfect room.