You said it was love when you held me tight,
But your grip left bruises in the dead of night.
You whispered sweet nothings I wanted to hear,
Then laced every hug with a shadow of fear.
You said it was love, but you sharpened your tongue,
Launched battles at dawn, and declared that you'd won.
You claimed you were fighting to keep us alive,
But love isn’t war where only one can survive.
You brought me flowers when the smoke had cleared,
Painted over the wreckage, dismissed every fear.
You kissed like a savior, then cursed like a storm—
How could I crave you when pain was the norm?
You built up your walls and called it “protection,”
But love without freedom is just a possession.
I bled for your peace, I broke for your pride,
You stood at the front line while I died inside.
You called me dramatic, too tender, too loud,
But I was just drowning in the chaos you vowed.
I begged for a truce, you demanded more—
You said it was love, but it felt like war.
So I laid down my weapons, stepped out of the fire,
Walked off the battlefield, tired of the liar.
Because love shouldn’t wound, it shouldn't destroy—
It should hold, it should heal, it should build and employ.
And now I know peace—it's quiet and true,
It doesn’t confuse what is loving or cruel.
You said it was love, but I’ve shut that door...
Because I’ve seen the truth—it was never love. Just war.
