120

and just when I dare to think

we are finally 

mellowing down to a silence that merely 

meant our hearts resurrecting,

you inject

the final poison; 

"are we even going to last?"

for the first time in my life sunsets

scared the daylights out of me

and all I could see was the

darkness ahead

all of it

all of it

black.

and I say we won't if you keep 

believing the negativity in your

thoughts to which you reply with

yet another length of silence

which I interrupt when

the repeated visions of you on

playback

come back to me

those scarring images of you

walking away from me

saying 'we are over' like as if they were

just words but

they are not, not

not just fucking words

thoughts of you putting a stop to my heartbeat

like as if what you held in your hand is

not alive

but just

an object

dead and replaceable like it is

not alive

like it is

disposable

but they are not

just fucking words

because words don't signify you 

throwing my life away

they are explanations to questions asked

about pieces of a dead heart splattered

across bedroom floors and roadsides

a heart that once belonged to me

because you threw me away

so shut up, please,

because I cannot breath.