Through the Fog

Tag: mixed signals

  • Fuck You

    Fuck you—

    for the silence,

    for the half-truths,

    for making me feel crazy

    for noticing

    what was right in front of me.

    Fuck you

    for acting distant

    while still keeping me close enough

    to hope.

    For every mixed signal

    you dressed up like confusion

    when really

    you just didn’t want

    to let go

    or fully stay.

    And maybe

    that’s what hurts most—

    not that you lied,

    not even that you left—

    but that you let me

    keep believing

    there was something here

    worth fighting for

    while you were already

    halfway gone.

    I replay it sometimes—

    all the moments

    I should’ve walked away,

    all the times

    my gut knew better

    but my heart

    kept overruling it.

    So yeah—

    fuck you.

    Not because I still want you.

    Not because I need revenge.

    But because I deserved honesty,

    and you gave me confusion

    instead.

    And now I’m stuck

    untangling the damage

    from something

    you couldn’t even admit

    was breaking.

  • Just Blowin’ Smoke

    You say it easy—

    like truth don’t weigh nothin’,

    like words don’t stick

    to the ribs of a person

    long after you leave.

    Just blowin’ smoke,

    you laugh—

    like that makes it lighter,

    like it don’t drift back down

    and settle in my lungs.

    I’ve heard that tone before—

    half-real, half-running,

    truth wrapped in a joke

    so you don’t have to own it.

    You speak in maybes,

    in almosts,

    in things that sound close enough

    to mean something

    but never land hard enough

    to hold.

    And I keep standin’ there

    tryin’ to read through the haze,

    wonderin’ what part of you

    is real

    and what part’s just

    habit.

    Because smoke looks beautiful

    when it catches the light—

    soft, shapeless,

    easy to mistake

    for somethin’ worth holdin’.

    But it don’t stay.

    It don’t answer.

    It don’t choose.

    It just fades—

    leavin’ behind

    the quiet taste

    of everything

    you never meant.