barbarita

Twenty-one,

and I hide behind a peachy smile.

I skip, I tease,

I’m sunshine with a secret.

Blink twice—

Soft lips,

loud heart.

I play with love

like stolen art.

They call me Babe,

and maybe it’s true—

I’m sugar,

Not fragile, not yours, not waiting.

Just glowing — in a room you can’t enter.

You’ll look, but I won’t sparkle for you anymore.

He still plays in the shadow of a memory,

trapped in a time I’ve already let go.

I chose to grow, to forgive… and to fly.

I hate that I can’t forget you.

I hate remembering you every single day.

I hate the lies you used to tell me.

I hate how you didn’t care.

I hate not being able to be with you.

I hate your silly and beautiful smile.

I hate that you make me cry.

I hate thinking about you.

I hate the beautiful connection we have.

Dancing through chaos, chasing the night.

Hearts stitched with glitter, scars that sing,

Not because you didn’t love me,

but because you can’t handle feeling.

You play the cold one,

the one who doesn’t cry,

but you’re out there posting shit,

throwing hints like a boy who’s lost.

You miss me? Say it.

You love me? Show up.

Don’t come at me with scraps.

I’m not your safety net,

not your comfort zone.

I’m fire.

And you ran scared.

Now the door’s shut.

And if one day you try to come back—

just know:

I saw him like Susan saw Joe—

a stranger, yet already mine.

He loved me knowing he’d have to go,