Good at

I was always good
At breaking the promises I couldn’t carry.
They fell, one by one,
And the weight of others’ disappointment
Pressed against my chest.

But something in me shifted.
I stopped pretending.
Stopped trying to be
What I was never meant to hold together.

Now, I don’t owe anyone anything
But my truth.
I care less,
And somehow, that means
I live more.

No more tangled words,
No more borrowed expectations.
What I let go of
No longer follows me.
My life is quiet now—
And real.