Love

I don’t think
I want to write,
anymore,
ever again.

Give it up
throw it away
slip into darkness
and burn into light.

Regain control of my mind,
and see if I can purchase
a replacement soul.

In the meantime…

I will break my fingers,
and
if the separation does not go well,
send them to live in another state.

You will not haunt me,
visit me,
revisit me,
and expect to be loved.

I begged,
got nothing,
I gave,
Oh (how) I gave,
still nothing in return.

You will be shunned,
put away,
forgotten,
until almost forever.