I'm not sure if I'm
more sad
             or relieved
that you don't read
what I write
or that I
sometimes
keep you up
late at night
twisting and turning
               sweating body
             getting hot in your
sleep so hot that you
wake to another
smoldering morning
              another hard day
          a chance to fight the world
             to punish whomever
              because you deserve it
             your loneliness a cave
          that you're a slave to
too afraid to find a home
unsure how to speak
    no signs of being weak
       just angry
alone in your rage
your pen writing your wage
as you build up your cage
the walls of your spirit
bury themselves deep
  an attempt to escape
    solemn efforts
    mouth agape
you'll find no empathy from me
not any more, no, not again
no longer lovers, we were never friends
unrequited, ignited and scarred
not knowing your own strengths
you kept your heart barred
then swung hard
   almost a year since
no regrets yet
almost a life spent
wasted and thrown
hollow bombshell feelings
I write you with my fingertips
while I write these poems too
I hope we never cross paths again
because it's true, I still love you