Love Poem #17 1/2

Split from the openness I tear the page
No more love poems,
I’ll end it this way.
We love and we love till its simple and small
Romeo and Juliet,
We love to the end-all.
Spilled ink on the page
Split page upon page
Half gone.
Half not worth the breath.
Half of the whole that used to be whole,
But now is shriveled, crinkled, crumpled inside a trashcan I keep in my heart.
Half torn apart.