I keep writing about you
And telling them about the way
You acted.
Not because I give a shit anymore
But because I never understood
Why.
I want them to know how you got my heart,
Beautiful, pure and untouched
In your sharpened hands.
And the way you returned it to me
Broken. In a thousand of pieces.
Surrounded by a tape of scotch.
I hope you learned your lesson.
And finally understood love.
And this time, pretty boy,
You take care of hers.
