I don’t want to write about her
The thought infuriates me
It is unclear which part sets my blood to boiling
I think it is the silence
It fills the space made vacant by love
Weaves itself through the cracks in our connection
Makes being together worse than being alone
Creates a space crowded with her and me and emptiness and pain
Words which were spoken and words left unsaid
The truth of us is hidden in here somewhere
Tucked beneath my hurt heart,
Wedged beside her stubborn sadness