The girl that loved you 

I can hardly recognize the girl that loved you,

she was flat and empty and waiting to be filled by feelings she had only read about.

She was soft and disappearing,

her mouth filled with rose petals.

She never thought to ask for more, was only grateful for what she was given,

and forgave, forgave, 

gave parts of her to anyone who spared a passing glance. 

And when you left,

she crumbled.

Collapsing inwards on herself because even in agony she dared not disturb the world. 

She spent so long lost inside,

stumbling through mazes,

disappearing down rabbit holes made of the what ifs still rattling around her skull. 

She sewed herself together with thread that dissolved in the rain,

and was still surprised when everything fell apart. 

I have swallowed that girl whole,

chewed her up,

spit her out,

for now my mouth is filled with thorns.