3 words that were the tornado,
obliterating all
into clean and tidy rubble.
Ordered, perfect, succinct
as your wicked fault-lines
imploded and I said
you were doing the right
thing, I just did not want
you to do it.
My eye of the storm, departed
crumpled
because I could not, though
I swear, calling bare, blood
burning, desperate, destitute nights
and each sharpened, salted day
as my witness, I tried.
But this body holds no words, this mind
carries no ease to destruction, incessant
heart beats out no explanation of why
why? why? why,
I cannot love you.