he said i was like a landmine.

i can't forgive you.
i can't let it go.
i don't know that i want to -
your betrayal soaked into the cracks in my subbasement and widened them, slowly and surely spreading everything apart with locked arms.
in love
or
in self
and i forced an unrelenting wedge that i hadn't even understood until now
and i wouldn't have a moment's regret if i never saw you again
it's funny how that works
how it slowly clicks into mechanical motion so often and so silently in my brain, slipping through deep, dark, crushingly heavy waters and away.
not, of course, without first slitting your throat before you know what's happened.
i, of course, am always more tempted to slit my own first.
and you'll force the issue
in self
or
in love
and my hate will contain my fury enough
and all that will be left is a stale chill in the air that will dissipate
in seconds
before the blood hits the ground.