You giggled and flaunted.
You were proud.
You were disgusting.
You were half the person you used to be-
half the person I remembered.
The places on your body where those memories were stored and kept- you had shed
and disrobed them like so much clothing.
New clothes,
you can't fit into the old ones.
(half the person)
I wanted to reach out and touch where your body should have been
but it wasn't there anymore.
(half the person)
I used to stand in your shadow.
I cannot fit there anymore.
You lost half of who you were.
Give it back to me.