I. ending. leaving. over(done). no more. we are dissolved and curtailed. goodbye and i’m not sorry.

II. crying. aching. shaking. breaking. waking up to missing you. i still need you and i’m not sorry.

III. breathing. bracing. hardening. bitter. i hate you and i’m not sorry.

IV. softening. sighing. sweeter, easier. throw you away. i need to do this and i’m not sorry.

V. forgetting. glaring omissions in memory; neglected. don’t think about it. finally concluded - i forgot your birthday and i’m not sorry.

while chewing on ice
can shatter porcelain veneers,
the human collarbone can
withstand 8 lbs of force before
breaking.

she sits in a cupboard,
forgotten
like wedding china -
(every once in a while, someone
will take her out, turn her over;
though they may shed a tear,
they’ve never known her) -
all oversized saucer eyes
and teacup fingertips;
too tired
to tell you lies.

delicate and fine,
the cracks in her bones
spell out the stories
of such a lonely
lifetime;
chipped paint and faded flowers
insist upon eternity
as an ancient
antique.

she is a teapot
that cannot even
keep your tea hot

held by too much superglue
to hold any justifiable value.
her handles broken, her lids long-gone

she commands no sentimentality
abandoned long ago
to this dusty
unreality.