i’m not going to hide behind
any pretty little words,
any pretty little rhymes.
not this time.
i’ll set this out there,
finally become clear.
all you are is a complication,
a memory set as bait.
all he is is a side road,
a path to prolong the wait.
and all i am is a lover,
one who views the world as stone.
being made up of glass;
fragile little bones.
and i don’t suppose it matters
all that much anymore.
that i didn’t heed your warnings;
that i sealed my mental door.
because when time whittled down
to the very end.
it was, in fact, myself
who did the breaking of him.
now it’s time, i suppose, my friends,
to sell our souls to the latest trend.
give away identity to the face selling medication
until the very end.
how on earth could i have said
that i broke him,
when, in fact, my heart
was everything he bid?
oh, and hello my dear.
before you answer
let me make one thing clear:
your voice has caused enough catastrophe
in the end?
you both broke me.
please, just keep talking,
i’ll slit your fucking throat
and punish you for the crime
i should have committed.
leave you no time for a final quote.