woman in pink dress sitting on brown wooden chair

Blinded by walking shadow poetry

I gave you everything,
every piece of my heart,
thinking that maybe this time,
it would be different.
I thought we were building something real,
something that could last,
but I was wrong
so wrong.

You smiled,
you laughed,
you made me feel like I was special,
but underneath it all,
you never wanted more
than just a good time,
just someone to pass the hours with
until the next thing came along.

I didn’t see it at first,
blinded by the way you made me feel,
how easy it was to be with you.
But the truth slowly emerged,
the empty promises,
the way you avoided anything deep,
anything that meant we were more
than just a temporary escape.

I was all in,
ready to love,
ready to stay,
but that’s when you showed your true self.
You never wanted the weight
of something that would last,
never wanted the responsibility
of love that grows,
that demands more than just fun
and fleeting moments.

You wanted someone
to fill your empty spaces,
but never to stand beside you
when things got real.
And I was there,
thinking we were on the same page,
when all along,
you were just passing time.

It hurts
knowing I gave so much
to someone who never planned to stay,
who never saw the value in what I offered.
I wasn’t looking for a distraction,
I was looking for something that mattered,
something that could be more
than just the surface of who we were.

Now I see it,
clear as day
you were never ready for love,
never ready for the weight of commitment.
You just wanted to have fun,
to play with my heart
like it didn’t cost me anything.

But it cost me everything,
and now I’m left
with the pieces of what I thought we had,
trying to figure out
how to let go
of someone who never really cared.

It’s funny,
how love reveals the truth
in the quiet moments,
in the way someone pulls back
just when you lean in.
I see you now
for who you are,
and what you were never willing to be.

And it’s time for me
to stop waiting for more
from someone
who only wanted to pass time.

Walking shadow poetry.


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