Listen! Can you hear it?
Of course you can't.
That used to be the *thump thump* of my heart.
It used to beat for you.
Now it's just dead, cold.
My own little piece of art.

Look! Do you see that?
Of course you didn't.
Those were all our happy times.
There weren't that many.
That's why they went by so fast.
Writing them down wouldn't use half this papers lines.

Touch. Can you feel them?
Why, yes, you can.
Those are all the promises you broke.
Careful, they are sharp.
They are pointy and jagged.
One could touch you with the tiniest brush.

You are left with two senses.
Smell.
Taste.
Do with them as you please.
Just don't let them involve me.
Me, the girl you can't stand to face.