The Lock

You cannot guard a heart

like a house.

No lock has ever convinced a person

to stay.

You can check the messages,

the tone,

the pauses between replies.

You can ask where they were,

and why it took longer than expected.

You can build rules

like fences.

But fences do something strange to love.

They keep things in

and slowly

push something out.

Because love does not breathe

in surveillance.

And the tighter the grip,

the quieter the distance grows.

Not all cheating begins with desire.

Sometimes it begins with silence,

two people

in the same room,

living different evenings.

Sometimes it begins with boredom,

with the dull ache of a life

that stopped surprising itself.

A person who feels alive

rarely looks for oxygen elsewhere.

But when the air thins

inside a life,

inside a relationship,

someone eventually opens a window.

Control cannot close it.

Because the truth is simpler

and far less comfortable:

You cannot prevent betrayal

by watching closely.

You prevent it

by remaining connected.

And even then

love is not guaranteed.

It is chosen

again and again

in a room

with no locks.