As minutes trickle into tomorrow 

I find myself dwelling on this mess you made

obsessing over details while questions endure unanswered, 

every memory a biting backhand.

Punishment for blind belief in a fallible ego

who sold soul for something greener.

I don’t know if I ever infiltrate your thoughts

but in mine we talked about this

and I hope it’s a conversation you never have

as every word ached,

yet even in figment your pride shrouds any shadow 

of the heart that used to beat for me.

 

A lack of love didn’t cause this wreckage

But perpetuates the rift between us. 

May the shrapnel of my shattered heart 

that still dwell within yours

never come to your attention.

Because that is a pain I know you can’t handle.