the last time i allowed myself
to cry over you,
to hurt because of you,
was when things ended,
when the cuts were fresh
and the blood hadn’t clotted
that’s it.
you can’t rub salt in a scab.
my wounds have healed.
you didn’t leave me broken,
you left me numb
which is just as dangerous.
stop dredging up the past
digging up graves at 2 am
you and your friends,
the tomb raiders.
there’s nothing there
but scattered remains
and dust.
i hope you know,
that april 5, 1 am
was the last time i gave a ****.