The wrong embrace

The wrong embrace

You were a blade hidden in silk,

A quiet ache behind a kiss.

Your touch, a whisper of thorns,

Promising comfort, delivering hurt.

I drank from your words like poison,

Sweet on the tongue, bitter below.

You made me a shrine of ruin,

A wilted bloom forced to grow.

Your built walls, not bridges,

Each caress a silent snare.

I mistook your cold for longing,

Saw warmth in your vacant stare.

I was the moth, you the fire,

Dancing closer with every sigh.

You watched me cry without blinking,

Counting the seconds ‘til I’d die.

Love was a knife you wielded,

Cutting me open, inch by inch.

I bled devotion in the silence,

A wound too deep to ever flinch.

And now, a ghost of your shadow,

I haunt the ruin you left behind.

Loving you was a slow surrender,

A cruel embrace, a darkened mind.