I’ve broken up with you twenty different ways
in my head.
My heart racing, ever-ready,
when you smile at me.
Because you say “crazy” like it’s a compliment.
Because you look at me like I might be magic.
Because you called my personality gorgeous.
Because when you said it, I think you meant it.
Because I’m 99 to your 86.
Because you gave me thyme and I never gave you sage.
Because you told me that everything was going to be OK.
And I’m scared that it won’t.
And I’m scared that it will.