Blueprints in a One-Way Mirror

I’ve laid it out for you—
traced my heart on the lines,
offering the map,
but you never read the directions.
You move through life, shifting weight to things
that don’t have my name on them.

Since 2017, we’ve been tangled.
Your lips on mine,
but your heart wandering elsewhere,
and I’ve watched you parade your love for others,
while I stood at the edge, a shadow.
I’ve been the one you turn to, but never the one you choose.

And I cry out,
pleading with words that slip into the air like smoke—
but they never settle,
never stay long enough to be heard.
You see me, you say.
But it’s like you’re looking through a one-way mirror,
seeing your reflection, not my pain.

I’ve been hurt.
Not by betrayal, but by neglect,
by the ache of always coming second
to your world of half-commitments,
of misplaced efforts.
I’ve shown you the way to love me,
but you still build walls where I asked for doors.

I’m stuck in this echo of us,
repeating the same patterns,
over and over—
watching you drift,
pulled back only when you fear losing me,
and still, you call it love.

Is this love?
Or is it settling?
Because I’ve always been here,
and you’ve always known it.

But I’m breaking,
pieces of me falling each time you turn away,
and I’m screaming in a room
where no one’s listening.