Maybe I deserved it, for believing in love, For thinking it was something sent from above. I built my dreams on a fragile thread, A house of hope now crumbled instead. Maybe I deserved it, for planning my life, For imagining you as my forever wife. Blinded by the future I thought was clear, Ignoring the whispers of doubt and fear. Maybe I deserved it, for thinking love won’t break, For placing my faith in a flawless stake. But love, like glass, shatters with strain, Leaving behind nothing but pain. Maybe I deserved it, for holding too tight, For stifling the freedom love needs to take flight. Perhaps my grip was a cage unseen, Turning a partner into a fleeing dream. Maybe I deserved it, for the arrogance I wore, For believing no one could leave me sore. But now I see, as you walk away, Love isn’t a promise—it’s borrowed, not paid. Maybe I deserved it, for loving too much, For mistaking possession for a gentle touch. Now I sit here, in the wreck of my soul, Choking on a loss that swallowed me whole. Maybe I deserved it, for believing your words, That you needed me, a bond undeterred. You said I was your breath, your heart, your life, But they were whispers, sharp as a knife. Maybe I deserved it, for fighting for love, Thinking you’d stand firm, hand in glove. While I held the line, you turned away, Making promises to another that led me astray.