I stopped loving myself
to make room for you.
It was gradual, but it hit me so suddenly.
A compromise here
A little forgiveness there
Constantly tearing away pieces of myself
Only to make patches for your skin;
Until you looked like a rare handcrafted quilt
And I became nothing but scrap fabric.
You poked so many holes in me
It’s no wonder you could look right through.
I thought your love would fill the empty space.
Instead, the watered down version ran straight through.
Using me only as a path to the other side.
Now I wonder if I have anything left to give,
Or if I will just bleed someone else dry.
Exactly the way you taught me:
A slow drip, then an open tap.

Y.S. — An Open Tap

July 30, 2014. 12::21 a.m. 

(via poetryinspiredbyyou)