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.