i've begun to notice
the end of love is a bit like cancer

in the beginning stages,
you may not even notice
anything is wrong.
once in awhile,
something out of the ordinary occurs
and you convince yourself
you have control

then, you're in denial of the disease.

don't be ridiculous,
i'm fine.
we're fine.

exponentially it gets worse
out of your control

until one morning you wake up
to clumps of hair on your pillow from
the attempts to stop the
disease
and you're left embarrassed
vulnerable
stripped of your will and
energy

until finally,
you give in.
you're defeated.
you're both defeated.
all you can do is wait
for it to conquer you

and even if you heal
you know you'll never be the same
you'll always be scarred