label.

you've become a label in my heart.
there's nothing else, really, that comes to mind.
except maybe the treasurechest memories i'll never redeem.
never resurface from my
rather, tattered
fiery
conscience.

you've lost all hope from my disposal,
venturing into other women's hearts.
a fool,
such a blatant, obvious amateur
(when, in fact, you have went SUCH a longer way).

but you never really learn, do you.

i should have taught you from the start
that love doesn't mean self-centeredness
and that your fury was my demise;
i thought i had implied that enough.
didn't imagine you were denser than all
the oceans of the sea
the earthquakes of the heavens
the clouds of your opaque conscience.

you're a jerk.
open your numbed-skull head.
you've become a label in my heart,
i'm sorry to say.

and you're nothing else to me.


He's a label, now. A depressing thought, but it's true. A very straightforward poem, I know.