Between the Lines

I never said you were worthless—

just looked away when you spoke.

I didn’t call you stupid—

just laughed too long when you cried.

I never raised my voice—

just sighed like your existence tired me.

I didn’t say you were broken.

But I fixed things you never asked me to.

Moved the pieces till you couldn’t find yourself.

Rewrote your memory with my silence.

Left just enough room for you to blame yourself.

I never hit you.

Just left you flinching at my footsteps,

measuring my moods like weather patterns,

whispering apologies to empty rooms.

I didn’t say don’t leave.

Just stood in the doorway with sharp eyes and soft threats.

I didn’t say I owned you.

You offered everything to be loved the way I never would.

No, I never said that out loud.

But you heard me.