Couldn't You Just Pretend Poem by Starfish ZA

I woke, my eyes heavy with the weight of sleep,
but the moment they opened, they filled with tears.
There you were—silent, still,
as if I were the only one
aware of what was breaking.
This would be the last time—
the last time I'd wake beside you.

Couldn't you pretend?
Couldn't you fake it, just for a little while?
Couldn't you make believe we were still
the way we used to be?
Couldn't you love me, just a little bit?

I want to touch you,
to feel the warmth of you,
but my hands tremble
as they reach out.
Your body lies next to mine,
but it feels as though you are oceans away.
I need to feel your love again,
like a flame to my skin,
but the coldness between us
grows thicker, heavier.

Couldn't you pretend?
Just once, pretend you still care—
a fleeting spark in your eyes,
the warmth of a smile that once held my world.
Couldn't you try to hold me like before?
Couldn't you love me too?

Silently, I rise from our bed,
slipping away into the shadows.
The bed feels emptier now,
the space where you once held me,
now hollow, abandoned.
I leave quietly,
but each step feels like it's breaking me more.
I can't bear for you to see me cry again.
So I leave, without a sound,
but your voice, soft as a whisper,
reaches out, pulling me back.

You call my name,
faint and hesitant,
but I can't turn to you.
I keep walking,
my heart torn between the door and your voice.
Still, I hesitate.

Couldn't you pretend?
Couldn't you hold me again, just once,
and make it feel like we still have something?
Couldn't you make me believe
we could find our way back?

I turn, and you're there,
your eyes meeting mine.
And in that look, I see the truth—
the one I've been dreading.
All the hope I've been clutching
shatters like glass between us.
Your gaze is empty,
a silent farewell I wasn't ready for.
My last hope slips away,
and the door becomes my escape.

Couldn't you pretend?
Couldn't you just make believe
for the sake of what we once were?
Couldn't you love me too?