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.