It makes me wonder
With every bitter word you say to me now
If the love I poured into your soul
Still burns on your tongue
With the pungent aftertaste
Of defeat and loss and deliberate departure
And if
With every word I say back to you
Snide remarks made of useless blades
Dulled by the numbing pain of goodbye
The hairs still stand on the back of your neck
Like the first time I ever told you I loved you
Or if we’ve gotten rid of it all
and bleached each other out
stains of Love on our white satin solitude
Immune to the harshness of our voices
Raw with anger and the unspoken truth
That this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.
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