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All I can do....
July 24, 2013
I can still remember so vividly the way he smelled and the taste of his lips, I did everything with him, promising each other that it would last forever.
But clearly it didn’t.
It’s over.
It’s been over.
Why should I complain? I was the one who ruthlessly ripped out his heart and tore it to pieces.
“It doesn’t matter," I said, tossing the pieces into the fire, “it wasn’t beating anyway."
© Francesca Y., Robbinsdale, MN
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