🖤 WHEN YOU TOLD ME BYE, I DIDN’T EVEN CRY
When you told me bye, I didn’t even cry. Not one tear fell— not one why.
I just blinked, and said, alright. Then turned my back and walked out of night.
You wanted to see me shatter, plead. But I’m no longer that kind of need.
You thought I’d beg, thought I’d break. But I’ve already drowned in that kind of ache.
See, I cried before when love felt rare— when silence stung and rooms felt bare.
I cried for boys who left me cold, for dreams that cracked, for hands I’d hold.
But not for you. Not this time. You don’t deserve to be called mine.
I learned to lose and still stay gold. To keep my fire when love turned cold.
So when you left, I didn’t bend. I didn’t chase. I didn’t send a final text, a desperate line. Just turned the page— That hurt’s not mine.
I didn’t sob. I didn’t shake. I poured my tea and baked my cake. I lit my candle, blessed the air— and thanked the stars you weren’t still there.
When you said “bye,” you thought I’d break. But I was already wide awake.
Already done before you spoke. Already saw where the story broke.
Already grown. Already wise. So no, my love— I didn’t cry.
