Poems

No way back
I don’t love halfway—
that’s the truth of me.

I give everything
like it’s safe to do so,
like what I’m building
won’t be the thing
that breaks me.

I don’t keep score.
I don’t hold back.
I don’t love
with one foot out the door.

I stay—
even when it hurts,
even when I shouldn’t,
even when I feel the cracks
forming beneath me.

Because I believe in people
longer than I should.

I believe the words,
even when they don’t match
the way I’m being held.

I believe the promises
even when they start to sound
like echoes instead of truth.

And maybe that’s where
it all starts to shift—

not in one moment,
not in one lie,
but in the slow realization
that something isn’t right
and I’m the only one
still pretending it is.

Until it isn’t something small anymore.

Until it becomes
the kind of betrayal
that changes how I see you—
how I feel you—
how I hold you in my world.

And that’s the thing
no one understands about me—

I will forgive a lot.
I will stay through a lot.
I will fight for something
long after it starts breaking me.

But there’s a line.

A quiet, invisible line
that I don’t even see
until it’s already been crossed.

And once it is—

there’s no fixing it.
No undoing it.
No version of me
that can go back
to loving you
the same way again.

Because when I’m done,
I’m not loud about it.

I don’t scream.
I don’t chase.
I don’t beg for it
to be different.

I just…
stop.

And the love that once felt endless
becomes something distant—
something I can remember,
but no longer feel.

Like a door
that didn’t slam—

just quietly closed
and never opened again.