I’m dry
I’m done
The part of me that desires you is gone
Some pieces need you
But a lot is smarter not to come near you
With half a heart
And perhaps, when it first doubted
Then some parts started pleading
Some parts are now pathetic
Melancholic
And a whole lot is silent

they, unique at first,
eventually turned out
to be like the rest

you, on the other hand,
a strand of grass in the field
yet deemed be like no other