Fixing a Heart

To the nameless boy whom I no longer (used to) care about,



I watched your cloudy gray eyes, mottled with glacier blue--cerulean and I thought you were beautiful. You stole my kiss--harsh and fast and biting and then you left me--you left me as an empty shell. You shattered me with your words, "This isn't going to work out," and I had to stand there and figure out where to begin--how to start repairing myself.



I wonder how you would feel if I told you that I loved you today and then I made you regurgitate on those words tomorrow. I have to wonder . . .