I saved a front. row. seat. for you
so tell me…
what part of my love made you laugh?
Was it the waiting?
The waiting?
Me checking my phone like I was checking my pulse,
just to see if I was still alive
in a world where you never called back.
Was it the silence?
Your silence.
Big.
Heavy.
Flood-the-room silence
that made me shrink my voice
like maybe if I whispered my needs,
you’d stop pretending you couldn’t hear.
Tell me
did my “I’m just checking in” amuse you?
Did my “do you still care?”
sound like comedy?
Did I look funny
trying to hold together something
you kept letting fall apart?
’Cause listen
I gave you the kind of love
that comes from bone,
from childhood wounds,
from “I don’t know how to love halfway
so here ..have all of me.”
I gave you the kind of love
folks pray for
and still fumble.
The only love I knew how to give
raw,
whole,
unfolded,
unhidden.
Pretty parts.
Broken parts.
Parts I only show God and the dark.
I laid them in your palms
and you held them like spilled change.
Did that make you smile?
Huh?
Did my vulnerability curl your lips?
Did my tears tap-dance on your pride?
Did the sound of me cracking open
tickle the bottom of your belly
like a private little joke?
Because I swear
I swear
you watched me fall apart
the way strangers watch a car crash:
eyes wide,
heart closed,
no intention of stopping.
And still
I came back.
Over and over,
I came back.
Knocking on a door
you never meant to open.
Bleeding honesty
into a space
you only entered when you were bored.
You didn’t meet me halfway.
Didn’t meet me a quarter.
Didn’t meet me with truth.
You just sat there
in the seat I saved
arms folded,
heart locked,
waiting to see
how much of myself I’d lose next.
Now that seat is empty.
Hollow.
Still warm from all the hoping I did,
still cold from all the hoping you didn’t.
And me?
I’m left with a heart
you never learned the weight of
a heart that broke quiet,
like a prayer whispered through cracked lips,
like grief wearing my face.
My love was never a joke.
But damn…
you sure treated it
like the only thing in the room
worth laughing at.
Brielle K D
