✨her questions✨
She would’ve sold her soul for that man
barefoot on red dirt,
whispering her vow into the cypress wind,
offering every part of herself—
spirit, body, breath—
just to be his.
He didn’t even have to ask.
She bent with the weight of his need
like willow branches over still water,
soft, obedient,
sacrificing her own roots
to nourish his drought.
She would’ve raised barns with him by moonlight.
Gathered eggs in the morning,
mud on her dress,
love in her hands.
She saw them stringing lights over the porch,
dancing slow to old records
while the frogs sang backup.
He told her they’d build a life
where the soil knew their names.
He told her they’d fly across oceans,
but always come home to land they touched together.
He said it like prayer.
So she believed it like scripture.
She did everything he asked.
Swallowed her own voice.
Shrank when she needed to rise.
Called it love.
Called it faith.
Almost died on the altar
of trying to be chosen.
Years.
Years of bleeding out quietly,
hoping he’d finally see her
as home,
as haven.
But he left her in the flood,
and walked back into his life
-like nothing sacred had been broken.
So she asks—
Why hunt her down?
Why wake up the wilderness in her,
just to tame it for a while?
Why light all those fires
with no intention of staying warm?
Why tell her she was rare
if she was only ever
a spotlight for his shadow?
A balm for his bruised ego,
never a soul to protect—
only a soul to consume.
Why does she still ache to see
the man he could be
instead of the man he is?
A boy in a grown man’s boots,
playing house in hearts
he never intends to build in?
What was the purpose?
Was she just a thirst he needed to quench?
A sacred thing to steal from
and leave used?
She stands now in a house half-built,
alone with all the blueprints,
while he’s off folded in someone else’s arms.
He got to go home.
She got the aftermath of the storm.
And still, she wonders—
Was it ever real?
Or was she just another prayer
he never planned to answer?
So now…
She wakes each day in a different house—
one built from the ashes of what he promised.
Alone with the lies he left behind.
And with the truth:
that he never meant to take it that far.