I am no longer pure.
No longer the tender girl I once believed I was—
The kind, soft-spoken child,
Whose silence painted her lovable.
I was the doll in the corner,
Delicate, pristine, fragile—
A sweet and breakable thing.
I spoke little but saw everything,
Carrying the weight of worlds too large for my hands.
I was quiet, obedient,
Too small to draw lines where lines were needed.
They called me precious.
They called me theirs.
And I let them.

I gave myself away in pieces—
Small gifts to the undeserving.
I bled my heart dry for those who never stopped to wonder if I would break.
I carried the burdens of others,
But never my own.
And then, I shattered.
Quietly.
Repeatedly.
Until the cracks in my skin carved scars in theirs.

It wasn’t malice.
It wasn’t choice.
It was pain spilling over—
Overflowing onto the innocent.

I told myself it wasn’t me.
That I was still kind. Still good.
But the mirror doesn’t lie.
I saw her
A stranger with my face.
I lied when I should have screamed.
I stayed when I should have left.
I agreed to things that unraveled me,
Then denied their truth.
I lost the girl I was
The one with the open heart,
The one who wanted so deeply to be more.

Now, they whisper behind me:
“She’s not who she was.
She’s not the one we loved.
She’s ruined now, isn’t she?”
And I wonder if they’re right.
Because I’ve made mistakes.
I’ve hurt those who didn’t deserve it,
With words I didn’t mean,
With silence I shouldn’t have held.

I thought I was better.
Better than my wounds,
Better than my past.
But I failed.
I bled.
And others bled with me.

I was numb.
Then I was too much
Feeling everything at once.
Pain turned to fire,
And fire to frost.
I burned bridges and froze hearts.
I don’t know which is worse.
I’ve stood in the ashes of what I’ve done,
And I’ve cried for the ruins I’ve left behind.
I’ve stared into the mirror,
And hated the weight of my own gaze.

I am not who I was.
Not the soft girl,
Not the sweet soul you remember.

But please believe me when I say



I never meant to harm.
I didn’t want to leave you with scars.
I didn’t want your tears to bear my name.
I wanted to hold you,
To love you gently,
To be the warmth you turned to.

But I failed.


I wasn’t enough.

I wasn’t right for you.


And maybe I wasn’t right for anyone.



Still, I hope you remember the light we shared,
Even as the shadows swallowed me whole.
I hope you live the dreams you painted for me,
Meet someone who sees you in all your brilliance.

And though I know I don’t deserve it,
I hope you forgive me.

I carry the weight of what I’ve done.


But I carry love for you too.



Always.