i wrote a poem for you

i shouldn’t feel like this
his love should feel whole because it truly is
and yet i don’t feel consumed, or complete, or comforted
it doesn’t hold me, it binds me as an all-devouring cover
pressing down on what’s hidden deep
you, you’re what’s buried beneath
what strains toward the light then flinches once it’s found
you’re what makes me ache for freedom
and despise the cage that pretends to speak how i feel for you
blocked by a repeated cycle of false love, the scared pull of conformity
i find myself inside even when i don’t want it. even when i know what my true love is
compliance feels safer, standards feel inevitable
i’m a self-made victim
i’ve never been someone who only sees what’s visible
i value what lives far from the surface, what takes time to reach,
what hurts to uncover, what refuses to be easy
it has always been you waiting beneath everything else,
unchanged, unfinished,
that ends now- i won’t wait anymore.
i will break this prisoned cycle even if it tears me open
with no apologies i will run free to you
shame to every “him”
you are what remains, what survives
what is shining, what is deep
what is true