What’s one more broken heart?
Theirs or mine.
It’s like taking another drink, seven and a half ounces of Stoli in.
It doesn’t matter at that point.
The taste of love has long since been dulled
burned out of my mouth.
It used to be a sweep of a hand made my cheeks blush
but no more.
So simple a child’s mind is. A better understanding of love they have
than this fading soul.
And to friendship, the thing that makes all of this possible.
I have blown that bridge to pieces, the shattered remains lodged in my hands
my feet
my mind
haunting what I once believed I controlled --
I did not need some lover as long as I had my companions.
They deserve more. Deserved more.

I have betrayed forever