but they don’t make me feel good.
I’ve been down this road before
where words like this are really
stiff backhands to my psyche.
It’s her way of being kind in the
midst of breaking things off, as if
pointing out the nice qualities
is supposed to let me down easy.
But her words throb like broken toes,
a constant reminder that I’m watching
her walk away, saying in coded terms
that I’m not the man she wants,
that in the picture she’s drawn up
I don’t fit within the lines.