“My voice lost its soul when you folded your cards into cranes and set them in flight above my head. The queen of hearts disguised inside a bird.
And those lies. Those lies I found in notes beneath the desk. My money is no longer yours. My room will be my own again. The words inside my head will sometimes, sometimes speak of you. Of the day you carried my umbrella home and not because it rained. Of the music that you sung to life. Of the cranes you folded out of everything—candy wrappers, a cardboard box, and now the deck of cards.
I’ll leave them there until I move. To remind me of those lies. To remind me never—never again to trust. To trust the man who folded my heart into his obedient bird.”