Part IV · Fallout
The Truth
I thought you’d leave me
shattered—
pieces on the floor,
too jagged to hold,
too broken to sweep.
Like the vase
my childhood friends destroyed,
laughing—
wanting joy
without the cost.
But consequence is cruel.
It waits.
It doesn’t land
until everything is silent.
I could scream
until my throat gave out,
and you’d still only hear
the volume—
never the wound,
never the grief,
never the demons
you summoned in me.
You told me,
"Stop yelling."
But you never heard
the silence beneath it.
I was never loud—
just unheard.
Always second.
To him.
And when I told you that hurt,
you said—
"I'm just being honest."
"I don’t know what you expected."
"Can you blame me?"
Each excuse
measured like venom,
twisting the blade deeper.
A reaper
with a hollow heart,
harvesting mine
from the start.