You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.
I drive around the streets
an inch away from weeping,
ashamed of my sentimentality and
I have an entire forest living inside of me and you have carved your initials into every tree.
Your blue eyes fucked me up.
I don’t pay attention to the
It has ended for me
and began again in the morning.