𝗽𝗼𝗲𝗺 𝟴𝟰 "I was the reason she went to therapy," you said, as if your pain made you noble instead. You’re the reason I stopped seeking the light, made me question my worth every night. I thought your distance was somehow my crime, but it was your chaos, every single time. Don’t you dare place the blame on me, your confusion’s a storm I refused to see. You’re the one lost, the one unsure, I won't be the one who finds the cure.