I promised myself
that I'd never write a poem
about you.

But you stabbed me
in the back;
I just apologized for
getting blood on you.

Breaks aren't permanent, right?
There's still an us, right?

I looked at the pictures in your snap story,
the ones with your arms around that girl,
on a continuous loop
for the 24 hours they were available.

I know what that look
that was in your eyes means.
I've seen it a million times.
Does what I know you did
count as cheating
if it's during a break?

You said you needed time.
Yet, I so desperately
want to speak you.
I'll apologize again,
who knows what for.

Call me "***" again
and make me smile
because it feels like those muscles
aren't working
on my own.

We can't fix anything
without talking.
Oh god, come online
and speak to me.

I can't remove the knife
by myself.
At least take responsibility
and clean up your mess.