When you met me,

I was weak.

It was not compassion

that opened my door to you,

but an emptiness in my soul

and the need to feel complete.

I thought you could give me

the parts that I was missing;

I didn't realize

that the holes in my heart

were carved out by

my own two hands,

left vacant by my will,

and an inability to fit

your silhouette

within my own.