for you
where it should ache is hollow
regret for what I don't feel
it died so long ago
and I let it fester under your
apparent disinterest
I kept it in display
for solidarity's sake
a dead thing on a stake
and it's not that
you were the murderer
but more of
we kept the pitiful thing
alive too long after
too many stab wounds
life support of the novel kind
words not ours sewn like
frankenstein's monster
I pulled the plug
and you still don't see
you're talking to a corpse