Even my reflection in the mirror avoids my eye contact,
like it's ashamed of what l've become.
The wind stopped blowing my way,
because even it got tired of carrying my weight.
I press myself together just hard enough to stop from falling apart.
But tell me,
In case I lose it all and finally split open,
will the pieces of me be sharp enough to cut you too?
Did you ever love me?
Or was I just a place you passed through on your way to someone better?
I loved you,
and now I'm unlovable.