You No Longer Have Access To Me No more

You Don’t Get Access to Me No More

You don’t get access to me no more.
Not my heart, not my peace, not my door.
I gave you love until it hollowed me out.
You took what you wanted and left me doubt.

I waited for effort you never gave.
I hoped you’d show me a new way to live.
I watered a garden you wouldn’t tend.
I held on to starts you treated as ends.

You spoke in half truths and quiet fear.
You pulled me close, then disappeared.
I mistook your chaos for something real.
Love shouldn’t hurt the way you made me feel.

I carried the weight you refused to hold.
I stitched my heart while your silence grew cold.
You called it confusion—I call it choice.
You muted my needs and raised your voice.

I’m done being broken by someone unsure.
I’m done being loyal to pain I endure.
I’m done giving chances you drop on the floor.
I’m done being someone you run to for more.

Hear me with the clarity you never gave me:
you don’t get access to who I can be.
Not my time, not my tears, not my core.
I choose myself—
and you don’t get access
anymore.