Did you ever think of staying?
Or was leaving the only way
you knew how to love me?

Was I too much,
or not enough?
Did I ask for things
you couldn’t give,
or did you offer less
than you were able?

I wonder if you held back your truth
to protect me,
or to protect yourself
from watching me fall apart.

The answers don’t come.
But the questions—
they stay.
Lodged somewhere between
my ribs and my memory,
quiet,
persistent,
unanswered.