In November I met that love
and by the end of summer we ceased.

Two months later came, like it does.

He snapped his collar bone from skating the bowl.
I got drunk alone and spewed guts on myself after the first hour.
Only one was a side effect from the breakup.

Too scared to face it, we pass by with silence,
too many different kinds.

One day.

But I don't think I'll be able to say anything correctly.

Small talk.

He remarks, "My bone is healing up."
Well.
All I have is, "I'm still throwing up."