I built a temple from my belief in you—

stone by stone,

word by word.

I knelt in the quiet of your promises.

But you came like fire,

not to warm,

but to ruin.

You lit lies like candles in sacred halls,

watched them melt the truth

until the gods in me fell silent.

Now, I walk among the ashes

barefoot, bleeding—

learning that sometimesj

the betrayal doesn’t scream.

It whispers.

And still, it ruins everything.