The Girl You Left Behind

I hated her –
the girl you left behind.
.
She was a mouthful of regrets,
mousetrap hands and forcing
goodbyes out of a sinking ship.
.
She was an ocean of tears,
begging knees and chasing
after you from the 18th floor.
.
She was drunk daydreams,
naked innocence and making home
out of strangers’ lips.
.
I hated the way she coped losing you,
how she let you steal away her bravery
and how you emptied the good in her,
only leaving out her lonely and worst.
I hated looking at her in the mirror,
and seeing scars under her skin.
.
But you know what?
Last year, her coiled spine finally
reached for the sun again and
nights were spent knitting stars back to her sky.
Her eyes no longer scream ‘what ifs’,
and her footsteps stopped trying to run back to you.
.
She’s finally learning how to swim back to shore,
to plant a garden with seeds of her pain
and to sleep with impermanence.
.
Now, the girl you left behind –
I’m beginning to like her,
love her even,
more and more,
with each passing day.
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The Girl You Left Behind

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