Goodbye, Love
I used to be in love with a cracked
lover. They shattered in my arms from
stones of another. They never mended
the wounds of anger they suffered
from. They washed down an orange
bottle with a handle of rum. I cried in
their eyes as they apologized. What
you can’t surmise is the smile they left
on their face when they surrendered
to their own demise. They knew the
pain would be gone for good. The pain
couldn’t come back as it often would.
