what do I do
when there is
seemingly
no amount of love to ease the pain

no matter how soft the kiss
how rough the ***
how sweet your words
there will always be the stinging

soreness

burning

here, to remind me
the things you hid
the things you did

the pit in my stomach
the hole in my chest
I should probably brace to receive

again,
such sordid gifts
from my liar lover.