You always make me feel like I'm asking for too much,
when all I've ever asked for is what I've already given.
I matched your steps when you were tired,
held your silence when you couldn't find words,
and stayed when the world made it easier to leave.
Yet somehow, when it's my turn to need,
my voice becomes an echo, too loud, too heavy, too much.
You make it seem like love should come with limits,
like I should measure my heart before offering it.
But I didn't learn love that way.
I gave without weighing the cost,
I stayed without keeping score,
and every sacrifice I made was just a whisper of how much you meant.
So tell me
why does it feel like, my love became a burden
while yours was treated as a gift?
Why do I have to shrink myself
just to fit into the space you made for me?
Because every time you sigh, every time you pull away,
you make me believe that caring for you
was a sin I was never meant to confess.