Love was a War (If)

By


If love was a war, then why did we dance,
 on a battlefield dressed as second chance?
 Was it my hand that pulled you too near,
 or yours that let go, despite my fear?

Did you feel alive as I fell apart,
 as you sharpened your words and aimed straight at my heart?
 Or were you already gone, a shadow, a ghost,
 feeding on the love I offered the most?

Did you taste my tears like the victory's wine,
 or did their salt remind you that this heart was mine?
 Did you feel my pulse beneath your kiss,
 or were you counting the seconds to this abyss?

If love was a war, then why did you lie,
 holding my hand as you watched me die?
 Was it my fault for clinging too tight,
 or yours for vanishing into the darkest of night?

When you kissed my scars, did you taste their depth,
 or did you flinch at the truth my silence kept?
 Were you holding me close to feel less alone,
 or rehearsing your steps to leave me undone?

Do you hear my voice when the night turns still,
 or does the quiet soothe where I used to fill?
 When I screamed your name into fractured skies,
 did you flinch, or just ignore my cries?

If love was a war, then why do I fight,
 in the shadows of you, each endless night?
 Why do I carry the weight of your sin,
 searching for answers I’ll never win?

Was my love too heavy for you to bear,
 or did you simply grow tired of how much I cared?
 Did you leave because you had no choice,
 or because you couldn’t stand the sound of my voice?

Did my tears ever haunt the space you claimed,
 or were they rivers you crossed without any shame?
 When I screamed your name into the endless dark,
 did you hear the prayer or extinguish the spark?

If love was a war, then why do I stand,
 among ruins, we built with trembling hands?
 Why do I ache in the silence you left,
 clutching the shards of a heart bereft?

Do your dreams wear my face like a haunting hue,
 or is peace the reward you think you’re due?
 Do you ever reach for a memory’s flame,
 or have you erased even my name?

Was it love, or just a game you played,
 to see how far I’d bend before I frayed?
 When you dropped the match, did you watch me burn,
 or turn your back, refusing to learn?

If love was a war, why do I bleed,
for a battlefield where you sowed the seed?
Why do I wander through shadows and flame,
calling for someone who left me in shame?

Do you remember the mornings we lay so still,
or only the nights where your absence could kill?
When you turned away, did you feel my fall,
or did you step back, unfeeling, through it all?

I gave you my heart, and you carved it to dust,
left with the ashes of unspoken trust.
Was I the anchor that dragged you down,
or the fool who stayed as you let me drown?

If love was a war, then tell me who’d won:
 The one who stayed or the one who has gone?
 Was my loss your freedom, my grief your release,
 or does guilt twist your dreams, piece by piece?

Because I still burn in the wake of your fire,
 still crumble beneath the weight of desire.
If love was a war, then bury me whole,
a casualty left without a soul.

And if love was a war, then let it be known:
 You carried a knife, but I fought alone. 

Let history remember who fell, who lied,
 and let the battlefield mark where love died.


-S.A.L.T

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