i remember the day
before i broke his heart,
and the delicate tangles of his hair
when he told me he loved me.

i erupted like the thunderstorm i am,
and the last conversation i had with him
was a shouting match.
every word he said was designed
so that i'd feel regret,
but i felt nothing.

i'm trying to forget about it,
but that would be like
shoving the memory into a drawer
that is far too small for it