The Darkest Night, The Coldest Days

I held on long after you were gone,
and I hate that part of me.
I begged for scraps as if love were bread,
watching you smile as you walked away
while I went hungry.

The darkest night wasn’t the silence—
it was me, awake and shaking,
staring at my phone,
hoping your name would light the screen,
but it never did.

The coldest days followed,
I wandered through shadows of what we had,
ashamed I called it love,
ashamed I called it home.

I lost myself to keep you,
but you never tried to hold on to me,
and that truth still lingers,
bitter as winter on my tongue.

I loved more than I should have,
you loved less than you could,
and that is my heart’s most painful fact—
the goodbye I never got to say.

Now I face my tears,
hard words for any man to speak,
but they are mine,
and I no longer hide from them.