Every time I think I am getting over
you,
A friend comes home
And says,
”You’re better off, boo”;
Or
an underwear
You
left
behind,
Sneaks out of our drawer,
And fucks with my mind;
Or
I see some guy
Walking down the street…
And I am reminded
of your
Hair,
or eyes,
or gait,
or feet –
And, no matter what therapy I have gainfully employed,
You
descend on my heart,
And I find it
destroyed.
Bottles of medicines –
Empty now and lying there –
The last of your shampoo
I used on my hair.
The black comb
You forgot to take –
The socks in the drawer –
Careless mistakes –
The pop socket broke –
We bought it, us three –
These little, last things
You won’t ever see.
I hold on to them
Like pieces of a heart,
And wonder when
The moving on shall start.
I lose a part of me,
When someone I love leaves –
It does not matter
Who controls whom or who deceives.
I lose a part of me,
For it feels like I am broken inside –
I feel no shame to say so,
For I am not the one to run and hide.
My loss becomes public:
Everyone can see this heart on my sleeve –
And though I lose parts of me,
I’m never the one who chooses to leave.
Hearts Still Care 
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