Still Caught in your Shadow

Still missing a Narcissist

I left your house,
I left your name,
but somehow I can’t
leave the flame
you burned into me.

You were a storm
I called “sunshine,”
a wound I swore
was healing
even as it bled.

I know what you are—
all mirrors and hunger,
a voice that bends
love into weakness
and blame into chains.

But still…
my mind replays
your softness,
that counterfeit kindness
you used like bait.

Some nights I hate you,
some nights I miss you,
most nights
I don’t know the difference.

And I wonder why
I can’t let go—
why your ghost
keeps reaching through
the cracks you made.

Maybe it’s not you
I’m stuck on…
maybe it’s the hope
that one day
you’d finally be
the person
you pretended to be.

But even as I choke
on memories and maybes,
I know this truth:

I am learning
to walk away
even when the past
keeps tugging

and I’m learning
that freedom
is still freedom
even when it hurts
to earn it.