Three months ago,
I saw your face in the rear view mirror
Of a beat pickup truck.
And now,

I can still feel the sting of your cold fingers
As they glide across my heart and grasp at it.

I can still taste the hatred spewing from your
Teeth and flowing into my head.
Telling me i am not enough.

I can still smell the burnt scraps of my soul,
Lying in a pile by your bed.

I still feel like I was paper,
Crumpled and unfixable.