You can’t love sad girls

You can’t love sad girls. 
They’re blood and they’re pain and they’re cracked ribs and broken teeth. They’re messy hair and broken hearts and screaming into empty vodka bottles at 2 AM. They’re not there for you to fix. You can’t sew up their cracked wrists and piece together their lost souls. You can only hold them closer, grip their hand tighter and pray to god they stop spitting up pieces of their broken heart. 
You can’t love sad girls. 
You gotta stop believing that you can fill the spaces in her chest where her father’s empty promises sit. Sometimes you just have to lay with her there on the bathroom floor while she stares at the wall for hours, mumbling through chapped lips and an alcohol burned throat, tracing over the old scars and showing you where all of her bruises used to be. 
You can’t love sad girls. 
Her voice will crack and her breath will catch as she stands their watching you scream the words “Say it back”. She’ll leave you open and raw and wanting more than she can give you. She’s a storm, a sun-kissed hurricane, and you’ve always been afraid of drowning