rough draft but here yah go

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She pour her heart in a glass, they drink it and dash, Leave the shards on the floor, tell her “baby, relax.” Same scene, different face, different city, same crash, Every “this time it’s real” turns to “that was my bad.” She give her sunlight away just to brighten they storms, They leave her out in the rain, swear that weather’s the norm. She patch their holes with her hands till her fingers get torn, Then they ghost in the night like they never were born. It’s like she standing in the doorway while the world walks through, “Mama taught me love is service,” now she scrubbing they shoes. Every footprint on her back is a name she once knew, Every promise had a crack that the light shined through. She the type to see a demon and still call him “in pain,” So she holding out umbrellas while he dancing in rain. He say “you the only one that ever gets what I’m saying,” Then he hand her all his thunder, never shelter her brain. She the architect of homes in the men that she meets, They move in, break the windows, track mud on the sheets. Soon as the roof leak less and the floor feel sweet, They be packing up they trauma, leave the keys by her feet. Another midnight on the mattress with her mascara rivers, Scrolling through the old texts till her whole body shivers. “Maybe I was too much, maybe I ain’t deliver,” Blaming every bruise on her own soft inner. She tired of standing still while her memories spin, Like a carousel of ghosts made of could’ve-been men. Life pass by like a train she too scared to get in, Watching doors open wide, then they close again. Every year feel the same, just a different disguise, Same hurt, new talk, same look in his eyes. She keep betting on hearts that been printed with lies, Then they cash out quick and go split the prize. She just wanna live her life, not audition for pain, Wanna dance without worrying who’s pulling the chain. Wanna cry without checking if the tears entertain, Wanna kiss without tasting that “here we go again.” She been packing up the past in these boxes in her chest, Labelled “almost,” “maybe,” “I gave you my best.” Every time she tape it shut, life puts it to the test, Drops it down the stairs, shakes up all her rest. Her girls say, “heal, babe, you gotta do better,” But the nights get long and the heart gets weathered. She say, “what’s the point of love if it come with a tether?” They say, “what’s the point of wings if you don’t change weather?” So she standing at the mirror with her palms on the sink, Neon buzzing overhead like it echo her think. Mascara on her cheeks like a warpaint ink, Whisper, “I am not the ship that’s supposed to sink.” She remember when she loved like a child at the fair, Gave a piece of cotton candy to whoever was there. Now she ration out her sweetness like the world don’t care, But she miss that old version who would always dare. Tired of giving all her love just to be thrown to the crowd, Just to be the intermission before someone else’s vows. Tired of loving men who only love her when they down, Then forget her in the sunshine, only call her in the clouds. She walked through fire for boys who wouldn’t stand in the rain, Held the weight of all their silence, every unspoken blame. She a symphony of scars with a halo of shame, But the halo getting heavy, she gon’ melt that frame. ‘Cause there’s a woman in her bones that ain’t met life yet, A version of herself that ain’t wear that debt. She can see her in the distance, but they still ain’t met, Like a sunrise waiting on a sky still wet. She wanna move on, not just walk in circles on stage, Not just read the same script, different dude, same page. She done bleeding out love just to earn that cage, Done shrinking who she is to fit they rage. So tonight she light a candle for the girls that she was, For the “yes” when she meant “no,” for the hurt she called love. For the way she sold her soul just to give them a rush, For the times she stitched them whole while she bled too much. She say, “I’m tired of being loyal to the knives in my back, I’m tired of building thrones for the ones who attack.” “I’m tired of calling poison just a little setback, I’m tired of bending till I finally crack.” Maybe nothing going right ‘cause she still go left, Still reaching for a hand that just reaching for her chest. Still calling every exit just a temporary test, Still trying to resurrect what was better laid to rest. But watch how she rewrite her role in this play, Turn “I’m broken” to “I bend, but I don’t fade away.” Turn “they used me” to “I learned what I won’t repay,” Turn “he left me” to “I finally made room for a day.” Yeah, she been stepped on, tossed out, dragged through the night, But diamonds only form under unholy pressure and time. She ain’t asking life for easy, just a chance to align, To walk forward with a past that don’t chain her spine. So if you see her on the corner with that far-off gaze, Know she mapping out a future through the smoke and the haze. She still tired, still aching from a thousand yesterdays, But there’s a revolution quiet in her ribcage. ‘Cause a woman who gave all her love and survived that storm, Is a woman who can build whole worlds from the pieces she mourned. And even when nothing goes right, when her faith feels torn, She the poem God was writing in the margins of the scorn.

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