Sometimes, I like to forget
you were ever me.
That the girl in the mirror
ceased to even exist.

Her skeletons,
she kept cautiously hidden.
But her heartbreak
was thrown to the world to be seen.

Sometimes, I feel so sorry
for the girl in those memories.
How lonely
it must have been.

I wonder how many parties
I chose to miss?
How many boys did I
never get the chance to kiss?
The friends I could have made;
the connections I left delayed.

All because I was scared...
because being alone felt safer instead.