faction

but you don’t belong anywhere within the criteria

there is no delicate way that i could present to you

options that would not rip your heart to pieces

the art of cynicism is that we like to pretend that

only a small fraction of things will phase us. 

but if you had smashed my skull hard enough 

against the pavement, maybe somehow you would have

dealt damage to my hippocampus, 

enough to forget that i cannot look at her in the eyes without

thinking about what you told me

or how if you think about a word long enough, it 

loses meaning. 

these were the things that worried me extensively enough

to make me leave at three a.m. and stand in 

an empty parking lot three blocks down

because you never consoled me

and for that i am thankful 

because there is nothing you can gain from trying

to shake something awake that is already dead.