Scars That Don’t Fade

(Verse 1)

I built my walls up high, brick by brick, alone
Learned too young that love can leave, and silence feels like home
Mom and Dad weren’t there, so I learned not to care
If nobody’s watching, then why should I share?

(Pre-Chorus)
I had too many dreams, too many hopes
Held on too tight, just to let go
And now I stand here, nothing left to say
Some scars don’t heal, they just fade to grey

(Chorus)
I gave and I gave, but it’s never enough
She took what she could, then called it love
I see through the lies, the secrets, the pain
And I won’t be a pawn in her selfish game
I’m done, I’m done, I’m done…

(Verse 2)
She whispered my name to the one who broke me
Kept my truth in the dark like it meant nothing
I stayed silent, I played strong
But those nights were way too long

(Pre-Chorus)
I had too many dreams, too many hopes
Held on too tight, just to let go
And now I stand here, nothing left to say
Some scars don’t heal, they just fade to grey

(Chorus)
I gave and I gave, but it’s never enough
She took what she could, then called it love
I see through the lies, the secrets, the pain
And I won’t be a pawn in her selfish game
I’m done, I’m done, I’m done…

(Bridge)
She tried to leave instead of facing me
Her shame too loud, her guilt too deep
But I won’t carry what’s not mine
Her truth, her past—I’ll leave behind

(Outro)
I’ll break the cycle, I’ll make it right
If I ever have kids, they’ll sleep at night
No more secrets, no more shame
Some scars don’t fade, but I’ll heal my name.

The Weight of Unseen Sacrifice

The worn leather of the armchair felt familiar, a comforting embrace against the chill seeping from the drafty window. Rain lashed against the glass, mirroring the storm brewing inside him. Jamal stared out, the city lights a hazy blur through the downpour. His mother's words echoed, a cruel refrain in the silence: "You're just a mama's boy, always needing me."

He'd sacrificed everything. College dreams deferred, a career path abandoned, his life a meticulous tapestry woven around her needs. He'd been her rock, her confidante, her shield against the world. He'd expected gratitude, maybe even a hint of pride. Instead, he'd received a lifetime of subtle dismissals, his efforts labeled as weakness.

The words, "You're just a mama's boy," stung with a venomous precision. It wasn't just an insult; it was a dismissal of his entire existence. He'd poured his heart and soul into caring for her, and all he received was a condescending label.

The rain continued to fall, a relentless rhythm mirroring the pounding of his own heart. He thought of the countless nights spent by her bedside, the endless errands, the comforting words whispered in the face of her anxieties. He'd built his life around her, sacrificing his own dreams, his own happiness, for the woman who was supposed to be his biggest supporter.

And for what? For a lifetime of "thank yous" that felt hollow and a constant undercurrent of disapproval. He felt a wave of suffocating anger, a bitter taste of betrayal. He had loved her fiercely, unconditionally. But love, he realized, was a two-way street.

As the storm raged outside, Jamal sat in the armchair, the weight of his unseen sacrifices pressing down on him. He was drowning in a sea of resentment, the echoes of his mother's words a constant reminder of the love he'd never truly received. He knew he needed to heal, to find a way to forgive, not just for her, but for himself. But the pain ran too deep, the wounds too fresh.

He closed his eyes, the image of his mother's face, etched with a lifetime of worry lines, flashing before him. He loved her, he truly did. But he also knew that sometimes, love wasn't enough. Sometimes, it wasn't enough to heal the wounds inflicted by those closest to us.