The Curse Of Loving You

The truth finally crawled out of its grave—
you never loved me.

Every kiss was a shadow,

every promise a lie dressed in silk.

So why return,

only to shatter the fragile bones

of what was left of this love,

once alive, once radiant,

now a corpse rotting in silence?

This house,

these empty rooms,

witness the echoes of your venom.

Each word you spit

was a blade twisting deeper,

a massacre of the heart

that once bled only for you.

Why did I turn back?

Why did my heart chain itself to you,

dragging me into this abyss?

What cruel joke of fate

wrapped my blessing in barbed wire,

made me call poison a gift,

and pain my only prayer?

Tick… tock…

the clock mocks me.

Tears dry to salt,

leaving scars on a hollow face.

The heart, cracked and trembling,

tries to heal,

but every memory reopens the wound,

bleeding regret like tar.

We should have never been—

yet destiny forced our collision.

Now hatred, sharp as broken glass,

feasts on the ruins of us.

Your words—so venomous, so final—

linger like ghosts,

killing me slowly,

syllable by syllable,

until only silence remains.

And in that silence,

I curse the moment I chose you,

I curse the weakness of my heart,

and I curse the love

that feels more like a funeral

than a gift from God.