Lesson Burned



I trusted the wrong person—

that’s on me.

But the way you handled my trust?

That’s on whatever foul, dead space

You call a heart.

You took what I offered with open hands

and treated it like trash,

like something disposable,

like I was foolish for giving it at all.

You didn’t just betray me—

you enjoyed the ease of it,

the way I didn’t see it coming,

the way you could walk away

without flinching.

No guilt.

No hesitation.

Not even the dignity

to pretend you cared.

But here’s the part you didn’t expect:

I learn fast.

I don’t forget.

And I don’t let the same fire burn me twice.

Your betrayal sharpened me.

Your indifference woke me.

Your cowardice taught me

exactly who never deserved

a single piece of me.

The lesson, carved deep

Trust is earned,

and you?

You!

You were never worth the risk.