I find that as I get older,
Cuts take longer to heal,
Scars stay longer, deeper

Inconvenient reminders of my failures,
Trophies of inadequacies,
Agonies made tangible

You are the cut in the roof of my mouth,
The one I keep tonguing just to feel it bleed
Just to feel something

I have starved for your lips,
Reliving endless memories,
Passion and flesh ethereal

I am the ongoing experiment to see if a man can die of longing
And I have no endgame in mind,
I will build my life around this hollow

I will move forward as this gulf grows wider,
As the streams of our lives flow in parallel,
Never to cross except perhaps in cruel dreams

I've let go of every flame but you,
You, who will never burn for me again
While I continue to dutifully smolder

Keep your heart to yourself. Keep it under a glass display for others to look at, but never to hold. Tell them about the scars, tell them your stories, tell them how this is now just a museum for broken things. Be the cautionary tale for young people who look at each other and say, "That won't be us. Promise me that won't be us."