Every time I want to say hello,  she pulls my hand away.  She says "don't. " says "you're only going to do them harm"
and I will.
And im sorry.
Very very sorry.

I was a girl in a bookstore.  In a coffee shop in a bookstore.  I was telling a boy about a girl that wasn't me. A rehearsed script of another time. I didn't know how to be there, only that I didn't want to be.

Today I am a shell. Today i am telling a broken boy to fix himself with just a hint of self disgust. Just a hint of hypocrisy.

I do not want to fix.  I want to break.