This is the last time we touched.
Your eyes peered similar to the night you cried about your father.
I didn't understand.
Disconnected.
You sat with crude thoughts in your mind.
I saw days bursting with moments of you in my eyes,
of us.
I am not another person.
I was yours a year ago, wasn't I?
A month?
A week?
When did you stop feeling?
No-
You care.
I see it in those snaked eyes.
You touched her,
you feel a crack in my heart for it,
for what you did whilst wearing a ring.
But that's all you will feel,
a tiny crack.
A mere beginning to the canyons you caused.
I am littered with ash and crevices.
Your words corroded the valves and cells of my being.
Fuck or shit or cunt
will never amount to the sinful meanings you gave
love or forever or promise.