What Your Friend Broke

Translated from the Spanish original by L.G.G.

We were two, just you and me,
soft glances, words that floated free,
the world would slow, almost stand still,
when your fingers brushed my sky with will.

We made no vows, yet still we knew,
with silent hearts, brave and true,
to love without deceit or net,
to cherish what we wouldn't forget.

But then came he, with brother’s tone,
laughing through lies he barely honed,
planting doubts with human grace,
and you believed—my heart lost place.

He said I lied,
that shadows danced within my smile,
that I was not who you had trusted—
and his betrayal ran deep and vile.

You didn’t ask.
You didn’t search my eyes before you left.
You walked away with his version told
as if love could be so easily theft.

You left me in the heart of winter,
no reason, no warmth, just cold,
and he, with his vulture’s whisper,
held you close… he was never bold.

Now we are three in memory’s ache:
you, me, and what he chose to break.
A story that could’ve touched the skies,
but the sky with you… no longer replies.

And though I try to hate you at night,
my soul still aches—I lose that fight.
For I loved you with a shattered soul,
but you… you trusted a friend’s control.