Saying you love me

Saying you love me, is like rubbing salt into the wounds you refuse to see.

The invisible gouges that you won’t acknowledge or take responsibility for, have become scars I will bear for years to come.

When love given freely turned to pleas,

Becoming new stabs to my heart that you will never feel, in any capacity.

Saying you’d do anything for me, that you’d die for me,

I feel the words and lies like a slap in the face.

Because if you meant it… you would have listened to me begging you to change.

“Be careful what you wish for”

I suppose they are right, I wished for change, and change you have. Just not in the direction I had hoped, or planned.

I once had white picket fence dreams

Where we all felt loved unconditionally

But I have had to face reality

That white picket fence will never hold my heart if you’re still around to tear it down.

So when you say you love me, it no longer has the same gravity.

Just another lie you tell me, in hopes that I won’t leave.

“Trying” to be nice to me, your last attempt to make me stay.

But I know now, from grueling experience, that a narcissist will never change their ways.