Don’t give me hope
if your heart is already gone.
Don’t light a fire
just to leave me standing in the smoke.
Don’t hold my hand
if you’re already planning to let go.
Don’t tell me “maybe”
when you know the answer is no.
I’ve survived enough storms
to recognize the sound of distant thunder.
I’ve rebuilt myself from pieces
more times than I care to remember.
So don’t offer me a future
you never intend to share.
Don’t paint pictures of forever
if you’ll disappear when I get there.
Because hope is a dangerous thing.
It keeps a man awake at night.
It makes him reread old messages.
It makes him believe in possibilities.
It makes him wait.
And waiting becomes its own kind of heartbreak.
I’d rather face the truth,
cold and unforgiving,
than hold onto a dream
that was never really living.
So if you don’t see me in your tomorrow,
If you don’t feel what I feel,
If your words are only kindness
and not something real,
Then tell me.
Tell me honestly.
Tell me clearly.
Tell me now.
But please…
Don’t give me hope
unless you plan to stay.

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