Ruins

I am used merchandise.

A second-hand person.

Inside I'm a mess.

Outside I'm a liar.

My heart is just ashes.

My brain is still burning.

I'm broken.

He caused that.

I'm sick.

That was my fault.

I'm collapsing in on myself

Like a dying star.

I'm losing who I am

Like a dam bursting at the seams.

I am but a shell of my former self.

I am a crumbling city lost in the vines.

Who could ever fathom that these

Scorched stones were once a fortress?

How could someone ever love

The ruin that I have become?