I've written poetry about how you broke my spine

and left an imprint in the cement.

I'll paint my walls with hunks of flesh

torn from your chest.

Hang your head on the mantle

like a trophy—a cheap prize I won at the carnival.

You always wanted to be the center of attention, didn't you?

Heartbreak is a game

I've played over spilled guts and open caskets.

I always win.