You finished me, drained me, and left me with an empty stained cup, you called that love, I call it audacity. Used, drained and now done. I am not an easy target anymore nor shall I be your form of convenience any longer.
You see, people love to come around when you are glowing, when your light makes them feel warm. But when that same light flickers from exhaustion, they vanish, leaving you in the dark they helped create. I have been the listener, the forgiver, the one who always shows up even when my own soul was crying for rest. And I am done. Done playing savior to those who would not even hold the rope if I were hanging.
You do not get to say “I love you” when what you mean is “you are only useful to me.” You do not get to call it “care” when it is convenience. Love without consistency is manipulation, and I have seen enough of that to write a damn manual. I am not your therapist, your backup plan, or your guilt-free access to comfort. I am human, with limits, boundaries, and bruises that have your fingerprints all over them. And believe you me, you qualified with your “DOCTORATE”.
You drained me, disguised it as devotion, and then acted shocked when I stopped pouring. Well, newsflash, my cup is not just empty, it is stained. And those stains tell stories, of loyalty misplaced, energy wasted, and love given without return. So do not you dare ask me for more. You have taken more than enough. AND I HAVE HAD MORE THAN ENOUGH.
This right here?
This is my rebellion. My soft heart has grown armor. My “YES” has learned to say “NO.” My peace is no longer negotiable, and my presence is no longer a favor. I am done explaining my worth to people who only recognize it when they need it.
I have cried in silence for people who never even noticed my silence. I have broken my back trying to be understood by those committed to misunderstanding me, even worse creating misunderstandings about me. I have loved loud, and lost quietly, and that pain has carved me into someone unshakable. So no, you have no right to call me cold now that I have stopped burning myself to keep you warm. Call me healed. Call me awake.
I am not angry anymore.
I am no well aware.
I am not bitter.
I am now highly selective.
I am broken no more for I am rebuilding.
Scraping myself of the floor you left me shattered on, without apology, without permission, and without you.
I used to bleed for people who would not even hand me a bandage. Now, I walk away before the cut. Do not ask me for more, because babe you will receive no more, you have already taken enough.