The Lifeline Turned Noose

If I’m not the one, then why string me along?

You hold the rope, keep the noose just out of reach,

But close enough that one small tug

could pull me back to where we ended our start and started our end once again.

And I fall,

A thousand times over,

down the same familiar darkness,

chasing a lesson my heart refuses to learn.

You loosen your grip just enough to let me breathe,

then tighten it whenever I begin to leave.

Perhaps that is the cruelest part,

I keep mistaking the rope for a lifeline,

mistaking your reaching for a reason to stay,

when all you ever offer

is another way to fall.

So I remain suspended

between what you say and what you do,

never realizing until too late

that the truth I keep searching for in you

is the truth I should have given myself:

I deserve more

than being kept within reach

of someone who never intends

to pull me close.