You don’t love me and that’s
okay. Any trace of emotion is like
breakthrough bleeding – nothing
to worry about. You don’t know me.
And I blame you, just like I said
I wouldn’t. I’m sorry, just like I
knew I would be. Day follows
night. The circle remains unbroken.
It never occurred to me that a broken
heart remains whole enough to break,
that just because you strike through
a word doesn’t mean it isn’t still there.