He said
"I think we need a break"
and the last pieces of a heart
shattered in his hands.
[Is that the break you wanted?]
And on my way out the door
I calmly collected my thoughts
and screamed them to his face.
I hate him.
I love him.
I need him
(to go away).
Happiness is a relative theory,
like motion and the gravity
that presses all our noses to the grindstone.
I would tell him that I missed him
but then two seconds later
I would be lying.
I'm not a boomerang
so maybe I won't bounce back.
Why fix the things
that God made
to
be
broken.
