She had a way of shrinking,
into spaces too quiet,
into versions of herself
that made him comfortable.
His words were not love,
but bindings,
tight around her chest
where her breath should have lived.
He saw her only
in the light that flattered him.
He wrapped control
in ribbons of charm,
offered affection
with hooks beneath.
But hush can cut.
And in that stillness,
she honed her edge.
When she walked away,
it wasn’t thunder.
It was the soft defiance
of a sunrise
that no longer asked permission.
She slipped the blame
from her hands like worn-out gloves,
shed the weight
of needing to be forgiven
for surviving.
No more shrinking
for a man who mistook her softness
for surrender.
No more silencing her blaze
just to warm his emptiness.
She wasn’t ruined.
She was released.
Now she moves.
Bare, unburdened.
Through the remains
of what once confined her.
Each step a return
to her own name.
Not his version.
Not anyone’s.
Only hers.
And whole.
These ties.
No longer bind.
into spaces too quiet,
into versions of herself
that made him comfortable.
His words were not love,
but bindings,
tight around her chest
where her breath should have lived.
He saw her only
in the light that flattered him.
He wrapped control
in ribbons of charm,
offered affection
with hooks beneath.
But hush can cut.
And in that stillness,
she honed her edge.
When she walked away,
it wasn’t thunder.
It was the soft defiance
of a sunrise
that no longer asked permission.
She slipped the blame
from her hands like worn-out gloves,
shed the weight
of needing to be forgiven
for surviving.
No more shrinking
for a man who mistook her softness
for surrender.
No more silencing her blaze
just to warm his emptiness.
She wasn’t ruined.
She was released.
Now she moves.
Bare, unburdened.
Through the remains
of what once confined her.
Each step a return
to her own name.
Not his version.
Not anyone’s.
Only hers.
And whole.
These ties.
No longer bind.
