I can’t give you lessons in romantics,
but I can tell you how to fall in love
with a heart that doesn’t want you.
I can tell you that you’ll move on,
but never completely, never completely
if you stick around too long.
Hearts aren’t too different from bones,
when you break them,
they never heal quite right.
Don’t go back there, love,
it gets harder every time.

You’ll wash him out of your hair
for five weeks, then months, then years.
If you’ve haven’t told him,
tell him, *******, tell him.
You already know the answer.
He doesn’t love you
he doesn’t love you,
anymore than trees love the leaves they
shed each autumn,
crisp, letting them fall,
decomposing, buried under snow and lies.
He doesn’t care.
Tell him.
You know,
you need to tell him,
or you’ll taste his name
in your blood and on your lips
until you wash your hair
for the final time.