You Took What Was Already Yours

I met you when I lit up rooms -

Loud, loud laugh, tight little dress.

I was down for anything, anywhere -

Dressing rooms. Dirt roads. Backseats. Yes.

I made it fun. I made it fire.

Gave you sex like it was breath.

You didn't find some broken girl.

I brought you everything I had left.

And still, you wanted more.

Bridge / Pre-Verse

He had the job.

The name.

The rise.

Because I pushed every time.

But power made him greedy.

Love turned to claim.

He stopped asking -

Started taking

like it came with my name.

I told him no - not the front yard.

Over and over. Drew that guard.

He nodded like he heard it clear.

But that night,

I disappeared.

Too much tequila. Too much sun.

I blacked out before the night was done.

I was a body, heat and breath -

And he took his shot like I was death.

Dragged me where I said don't go.

He knew - but I was too far below.

Sick for days. Couldn't recall.

He called it love.

But I remember it all.

Vegas. 2 A.M.

You dragged me from that hotel bed -

Bruised arms. Carpet burn.

Because your thrill needed an audience.

You loved the risk more than my fear.

Cameras blinking while I whispered, please...

But you didn't stop.

I was just a prop in your performance.

And after? You kissed my shoulder.

Said you were my husband.

Like that made it holy.

Like the ring rewrote my boundaries.

You didn't want a partner -

You wanted compliance.

You dressed me for strangers

Like I was a toy you could show off -

No bra, tight clothes, wide eyes.

I went along because I wanted you,

Until you only wanted the thrill of taking

What wasn't being given.

And then came the porn.

You filled your phone with women frozen in pixels,

Trained your body to finish

Before you ever learned me.

You didn't ask what I liked.

You copied the scene.

Expected my skin to act like theirs.

No warm-up. No wonder. Just use.

And I played along - until I disappeared.

I gave you the forest.

You wanted the fire.

I stripped off the sky.

You asked for my shame.

I was already naked -

But you still wanted to unzip my "no"

And wear it like a prize.

I wasn't your wife anymore.

Not in your hands.

I was a trophy with breath.

A ritual you rehearsed

Until I broke.

You didn't just take my body that night.

You buried the part of me that trusted you.

And every time you touched me after -

You were holding a ghost.

But I crawled out of the silence.

Rebuilt the skin you bruised.

Found the power in my own breath.

I learned what I like.

I say what I want.

And the men who touch me now?

They ask.

They wait.

They worship.

Because they know - I'm not theirs.

I'm mine.

And you?

You sit with your quiet wife -

Tame. Obedient. Forgettable.

You didn't lose me.

I let you go.

Because I don't beg to be treated right.

I rebuild. I rise. I glow.

You had a woman who gave you galaxies.

You demanded more - and killed the stars.

Now I burn on my own terms.

And you?

You only get to watch from afar.