You loved a girl who lit up every room with her smile; who painted and laughed with ease.
But you could not love the same girl who locks herself up in her room, who forgets to eat for days, the girl with the saddest anger, who stays up all night drowning in her thoughts. Who silently calls out for help. I bet you don’t even know. You just love what you see. And if you do, you turn a blind eye.
You did not love the broken girl. You couldn’t love her as a whole; her worn out eyes scare you, seeing her break freezes your cheeks, her whole being felt like spiders and you don’t like how her voice trembles
when she speaks.
The same girl.