"The Villain You Made"
I was the quiet one—
the type who stayed, who hoped, who gave.
But you painted me in shadows,
then blamed me when it rained.
You called me distant
when I was just trying to heal—
like a villain hiding in silence,
when all I needed was to feel.
I gave you chances
like bridges rebuilt from ash,
but you burned them again,
and then blamed me for the crash.
You needed someone to blame,
so you chose me with ease—
drew scars on my story,
and called your silence peace.
You made me the villain
in the tale you told your friends—
but I only changed
when your love came to an end.
Now I wear the name you gave me,
like armor made of pain—
and if being numb looks heartless,
then let me take the blame.
You wanted a monster,
so I became one for your play—
but deep down,
I was never yours to break.
Now I rise, not to explain,
not to fix what you betrayed—
If I'm the villain in your story,
I'll wear the crown you made.