Between Bruises & Blooms

In English, we say: “I gave everything.”

But poetry would say—

I emptied my pockets
of every sunrise
I had been saving.

I handed you
the softer version
of my voice,

the one that only existed
when I believed
love was listening.

I tore pieces
from my own horizon
to make your sky
feel endless.

When my hands
had nothing left,

I offered you
the silence
where my dreams
used to live.

And when you walked away,

I stood there
wondering

how someone
could carry
so much of me

without ever noticing
how empty
I had become.