he’s not “the boy she used to love” anymore
he’s just a boy
a boy with issues
a boy who left a girl,
who would have never let him go.

she’s not “the girl he used to love” anymore
she’s now a woman
a woman with issues, yes.
but a woman who lost a boy,
and gained herself.

now, i ask, which one is better off?

My heart is racing.
I feel sick.
My anxiety knows me better

than anyone.

I let different boys touch me
Because I wanted to know
Even for a second
What it felt like to be loved
Even if the love was cheap
And it tasted like ***
Like the punchline to a joke
I never got because it was me

I let different boys have different parts of me
Parts they didn't deserve
But I offered up willingly because I couldn't give anything else
after you broke me
I was looking for different fingers
to place different pieces and hoping  the outcome
would be a masterpiece
Maybe one of them would find a way
to cover up the handprints you left all over me

I let different boys touch me because I had to prove to myself
you wouldn't be the only one
that these scars marking my body wouldn't define
my worth to be loved
I am not entirely sure  
you aren't the only one who could ever touch me without slightly  flinching

I let different boys touch me because that is all I have been taught
To be a joke
To be silent
To be ready to give until you have nothing left
- they keep leaving me and I am to scared to offer up anything more than my body to get them to stay

i run when things get too much
and everything feels this way now
so please
if you love me
don't let me run
i just need to walk
i need to move slower
don't move too fast

for every girl
he is a mark
that cannot be swept away
for every girl
he takes a heart
and paints her blue skies grey