Almost…

You were amazing,

but it feels like a lie now,

a dream I thought we both wanted,

but you tore it from its roots

before it could even bloom.

Everything I gave to you—

the warmth of my space,

the taste of my time—

I almost wish I could take back.

Not because it wasn’t real to me,

but because you didn’t know what to do with it.

Your kisses felt like magic,

but the way I wanted you was tragic.

Told you one thing—

I wanted more, something steady—

but we did another,

when I pulled you onto my couch.

We followed the current,

both of us swept up in its pull.

I thought we were in the same stream.

But you pulled away,

told me three days later

that this wasn’t what you wanted.

So why did you flirt with me after?

Why did you keep the tether taut

if you knew you couldn’t carry the weight?

I’m done unraveling myself for someone

still tangled in their own knots.

You try to move forward,

but the past clings to you like smoke,

and it’s choking every good thing

that tries to get close to you.

I see it in the way you hesitate,

in how your words veer off course.

You need to heal.

You need to turn inward,

to stop burying the pieces of you

that still ache for answers.

I don’t know who hurt you

or why you’ve let their shadows stay,

but until you face it,

you’ll only ever walk in circles.

I wanted more than a fleeting thing,

more than just casual,

but I won’t be someone’s “almost.”

Not again.

I liked you—

I could have loved you—

but this Scorpio stings.

I sever what’s rotten,

even when it hurts.

You, with your devilish charm,

your angelic wings—

you’ll keep flying toward what feels easy,

but I’ll be here, rooted in my worth.

Watching, waiting,

knowing I was never the one

to fix you.