A Bruised Heart Is Worse Than Broken Bones

i can still feel
the bruises you
left on my heart

and every time you
walk past it
jumps it skips
and i dig my nails into
my palms in
protest
(because i think
maybe this’ll be it
maybe this’ll be when
you come over –

it never is) and i
start to wonder
if my heart and my
head are two separate
entities

i can never hate you
as much as i hate
myself and however
much i try to blame it all on
you (it would be so much
simpler if i could)
i can’t

because i know i
fucked up
and for once
i just want the lines
between my head and my heart
to clear

so i can feel
just one way