her voice falters when she tells me
he doesn't love you anymore
i spilled tea on the carpet and i cleaned it up,
and she said his name and i didn't flinch.
in the car, i can feel shards of my skin
he loves someone else, another girl
monsters shattering whatever's left
until the windshield is quaking
and the cars are honking but i can't see
and i don't care, because
she's a brunette, like you, long hair, like you
i wonder what time they'll find me,
parts of me scattered along the road
not in any particular order,
just however long they could hold on
the way a furnace heats clay until
hairlines creep across its exterior,
until an eyelid flutters and it combusts across the room
exploding from mere emotion
and the sirens are wailing towards me,