You showed up broken, said “don’t go,”

But dragged me down so I’d stay low.

Called me “anchor,” called me “grace”—

(While sinking me in your embrace).

You loved the parts of me that bled,

Used my calm to soothe your dread.

Every time I tried to rise—

(You dimmed my flame with practiced lies).

I tried to fix what wasn’t mine—

(But drowned in every warning sign).

You’re not my rescue, not my cause,

I’m not the one to take your flaws.

(You called it love, I called it weight),

And now I’m done with your escape.

You’re not my rescue, not my fight—

(I owe myself the light).

You threw your pain like it was art,

Then blamed me for your broken heart.

I stitched your cracks, I gave you peace—

(But you just fed the worst in me).

I set myself on fire for you—

(But burned out long before you knew).

You’re not my rescue, not my cause,

I’m not the one to take your flaws.

(You called it love, I called it weight),

And now I’m done with your escape.

You’re not my rescue, not my fight—

(I owe myself the light).

I won’t be your bandage, won’t be your crutch—

(You never healed, you just took too much).

I won’t be quiet, I won’t pretend—

This is goodbye, not a dead end.

You’re not my rescue, not my role,

I’m not here to lose control.

(You fell, I climbed, I broke the chain),

I’m walking free from all the blame.

You’re not my rescue, not my truth—

(And I’m not bleeding over you).

(And I’m not bleeding over you).