the end.

“I’m not in love with you.”

the words drop from his mouth

and fly straight into my gut,

settling down like a bad hangover.

they say hearts break

but mine feels as though

it’s been turned inside out.

It takes my eyes almost a full hour

to let the first tears


they tried so hard not to ruin the makeup

I did to make myself pretty for him.

then I notice his socks are missing from their spot.

then his underwear.

I rummage around the apartment

searching for evidence

that he’s really gone.

That’s when I see the empty spot on the mirror where his toothbrush hung.

That’s a bad sign.

No no one takes their toothbrush anywhere

without first making plans

to stay the night.

He’s probably already on his way to his uncle’s house

and will soon be unpacking clothes that will never again

lay next to mine,

starting his new life

without even a proper goodbye.


And I’m in bed trying to read

and drink wine

as if I didn’t feel my heart

being torn apart

inside of me.


Categories Creative Writing, Poetry, ProseTags ,

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