I miss the way you
took up my empty spaces.
Your words would fill me up
like a well,
that all my contents would spill
out at your feet.
You changed me.

I feel myself
crumple and crease
like the folds of a
crushed paper bag.

My skin weighs on me
as I pinch the thickness
of my thighs and sides.

Bruises forming where
skin should be thin,
but has been memorized
by fingers that shake
whenever I cry.

I am not made of silk.

I'll show you what it's like to touch.
Finger tips
and
your blood,
boiling from temptation;
you'll feel me in your heart.

I'll race through your veins
and occupy your lungs.
I'll show you what it's like to chase,
wasted nights
spent on
pointless thoughts;
you'll never know when to give up.

And I'll peel back your mind,
where it's me that you'll find.
I'll show you what it's like to fall in love.
A restlessness
and
an empty spot;
you'll be begging me to fill it up.

"Where is your heart?"
"I don't know."

---
Countless of times I have left
memories behind on doorsteps,
with bits of dried up feelings.
Because names become a mess
of dust and forgetfulness,
and only prevent myself from healing.
With no words to console my thoughts,
or a way to make it all stop,
I'll only fall from where I stand.
You'll ask me about my heart
why I always fall apart,
and I'll tell you, "That's how it's always been."

You;
you prey on pretty things.
Damaging innocent bows
and precious curls.
Dainty,
delicate,
*****.
You;
you ruin her.