the thing about heartbreak
is that it doesn’t really stop
hurting.

you feel it when you
see their face in the
halls.

you feel it when you
find a new lover who treats you
right.

but they don’t text the same
but they don’t talk the same
but they don’t feel the

same thing happens
when you see them for the first
time.

it’s outside your favorite coffee shop.
they’re walking towards you and you keep
going.

now the coffee is cold
and it’s bitter and you can’t drink
it.

don’t make eye contact
don’t make eye contact
don’t make

i sometimes see his face on the
empty milk cartons with “missing”
print.

i sometimes hear his voice
singing the lines to my favorite *******
song.

i sometimes feel his touch
though i only felt it once against my
thumb.

warm and light
warm and light
warm and

light only seeps into my cold
heart again when i finally
sleep.

my eyes shut and my
breath goes steady like a spring
morning.

my body and brain
relax and forget about the cruel
work.

you are the forgotten
you are the forgotten
you are

the thing about heartbreak
is that it doesn’t really stop
hurting.