### What Did She Do to Deserve This?

In the beginning, there was love,
a luminous thread spun from the sun’s finest rays,
tender as the morning dew,
glistening on petals, fragile yet beautiful.
She offered you warmth, a smile that danced,
soft laughter floating in the air,
like whispers of summer winds,
gathering hopes, nourishing dreams,
tilling the soil where promises grew,
but you turned your back,
afraid of the light,
fearing the shadows that had haunted you,
a tapestry woven with threads of past sorrow,
a history pulsing with pain.

What did she do to deserve this?
Each kindness, a seed in barren earth,
yet you tossed her heart aside,
dismissing her purity,
instead, focusing on the dark mirror
that reflected your own fears,
the demons born from childhood scars,
echoes of disappointment cutting deep.
In your delusions, the skulls whispered,
tugging at your resistance,
eroding the boundaries of her love,
drawing you toward a tempest of self-made torment.

Your memories turned vicious,
a past that kept you prisoner;
horrific tales spun from the threads of betrayal,
hearts once tender now turn to stone,
and you convinced yourself they were real.
The specters of treachery danced in your mind,
their laughter grotesque, a cruel symphony
that drowned out her whisper of affection.
How could you let your disbelief
drown out the music she made,
the harmony of your two hearts?
She bared herself, raw and trembling,
but your vision was blurred, mauled by fear,
like a painting obscured by layers of mud.

The love she offered canopied the night,
a shelter from the storms you conjured,
yet you stood amidst the chaos,
arms crossed, heart barricaded,
while she laid her soul gently before you,
a testament to vulnerability’s grace,
a fragile brilliance that yearned for connection.
But your echoes mocked her,
filling the silence with anguish,
turning warmth to a chill that crept in,
froze the kindness hid beneath your armor.

And so, you fled.
You ran past heart signs,
the glimmering beacons of compassion,
chasing after shadows,
following phantoms that told not tales of love,
but deceit and betrayal painted
in colors that no brush could fill.
You forsook the comfort of her embrace,
the safety of her unwavering belief,
gravitating instead toward the gravity of your wounds,
each bruise a battle cry,
a chain that held you captive
while she wept in silence,
her heart splintered by your oblivion.

You spoke in riddles wrapped in armor,
hiding tenderness behind false bravado,
as if bravery was to drown
in the ocean of your pain,
as if it were honorable to reject
the glory of vulnerability.
Sympathy gleamed in her eyes,
she saw beyond the facade,
wanted to guide you out of that void,
but you turned your back, unable to face
the reflections of the man you could be,
lost in the labyrinth forged by your fears,
trust painted in shades of distrust,
a serpent gnawing at your core.

And so you remain,
standing at that threshold,
your pride a frail wall, trembling,
crumbling under the weight of your choices,
scared to step into the light
because shadows promised familiarity.
Yet darkness drained your essence,
while she, a beacon,...