I let you take a part of me which you had no right to take.
I’ve been looking for that part, all this time…
That light-hearted, song-spirited self I had
That twenty-something self I had
That wide-eyed innocence I had
I let you take it and you dragged it through the mud.
I haven’t been the same since.
Wait, that’s not really true.
See that’s the lie, the lie is that we let other people break/change/ruin us.
We are not broken. But we look in the mirror and break
We dig our eyes out to stop from crying
We cut those favorite blue-jeans up and burn the pieces because we regret having been young/naive/in love/innocent/ beautiful
And that youth is still in us, even as we cut fabric and cry hokey 80’s tears we are obviously STILL young
And that young heartbroken 20-something still exists inside this immature 30-something who’s sitting here, writing this, trying to reconcile….
Trying to understand the difference between 10 years and 20 pounds…
Trying to be that person who was stupid enough to trust/love/experience/give, because that’s the same one that’s stupid enough to feel JOY
And I always thought you killed her, but I was wrong–
it was me.
(And she isn’t dead. She’s inside, here, right here….)
(And I’m not dead….)
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