Unburdened

You scarred me so deeply  
that I lifted my standards,  
like a weight I never knew I carried—  
realized what was missing,  
what you had stolen,  
and ran into the arms of a man  
who doesn’t wear your face,  
who doesn’t breathe your poison.  
A man who holds me  
like I am not a burden,  
who loves me  
without expecting to watch me crumble.

10,000 miles away,  
across an ocean you will never cross,  
where your shadow can't reach me.  
I chose exile  
from the scent of you,  
from the echo of your lies.  
This is how I made sure  
you would never darken my doorstep again—  
by allowing myself to be loved  
the way I always should have been,  
not in the small, shattered way  
you insisted I deserved.