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.