I went into the backyard and dug two
shallow graves; one for you and one for me.
I sure as hell don’t want to be with you
in a dirt hole for all eternity
if I fuck this up. When I hate something
it gives me focus. I’m a stumblebum.
Focus isn’t my strength. O heart, bleeding
won’t end a thing, but it’s a start. Seldom
do we get new starts. Heart, foolish heart,
you have been cut and pierced, starved and eaten.
You are a sad, little thing when you bleed.
I don’t care about revenge, the sweetheart
who broke me, anyone. Heart, you’re the one
I want dead; the last thing, right now, I need.