Having Been There

spoken word

The issue wasn’t leaving—
it was having been there.
Not the footsteps that fled,
but the ones that stayed,
rooted in silence,
while my soul begged for air.

It wasn’t the escape,
it was the endurance.
Not the door swinging shut,
but the years I stayed seated,
while red flags danced like flames
and I called it warmth.

You think I’m running?
Nah—
I’m just finally moving.
The wound wasn’t in the leaving—
it was in every day I pretended
that staying made me strong.

But strength isn’t silence.
And loyalty doesn’t mean
sacrificing your spirit
on someone else’s altar
and calling it love.

So no,
I don’t regret the exit.
I regret the echo.
The version of me
that swallowed storms
to keep the peace.

The issue wasn’t leaving—
it was having been there.
And now that I’m gone…
so is the lie.

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