I’m in a perpetual state of punishment for a crime I had no knowledge of committing.

Your indifference is colder than any passionate exchange of anger. At least emotion, even negative, means you care.

Each encounter between us leaves one less piece of me, stealing what I thought was given willingly.

My heart no longer aches, just my eyes. Each disdain-filled word piercing through my corneas as if a car flashed its’ brights just around the corner of a hairpin turn.

Each time, more blinding than the last. Each time, I lose control of the wheel. The car spins out of control and I crash. Hard.

You just keep driving, unphased in the slightest. Par for the course. You’ve seen worse than the havoc I’m left in.

Is it comforting to you? How many crime scenes have you walked away from scot-free?

I finally understand. The blame falls to me. Even though this handiwork has your distinct signature; boy who gives zero ***** for anyone but himself.