Let this be the sign that I am ready to move on.
That I am done with your games,
will no longer struggle to be your queen,
have been tossed from the board,
checkmate,
you win.

Let this be the sign that I will never again
try to be worth something to you.
Never try to fill up the bruised cavity of your heart,
or siphon out the black ink from your veins to leave them gleaming.
Because still, in your eyes
I am worth nothing.

Let this be the sign that I will find someone else
to fill me bubbly, spritely, sparkling and red.
That he will press petal-soft lips to my forehead
like you did, but he will mean it
like you never could.

Let this be the sign that being alone
does not always mean being lonely.
That my throat will someday open again
to speak the words
I know to be true:
I will be so much better off without you.