She is the serrated edge
of the broken
wine glass
carving up my face
leaving open wounds
where she touched
me
all that remains of us
is
deeply
painful memories
and the scars
of moments past.

when i was a kid
i used to sneak up
to her room

and listen to her,
crying
and i memorized
the sound of her cry.

when i was a kid
i used to sneak up
to their room

and listen to them,
fighting
and i memorized
all the words.

i write poems now.

I'm tired
and torn, and weary
I'm emotionally drained
I'm fighting but constantly losing.

I'm exhausted,
from the inside; in the heart
where all the veins only have scars.

I'm a hopeless romantic,
I'm an aspiring poet, a classical-
music addict. I'm the one drop of rain
in the middle of August, I'm that one player
who lost this game.