There was a guy who used to write me love letters

They all ended with “… and I’ll never forget her”

Sometimes I wonder if that truth has made it this far

Has my memory brought him frown lines or a scar?

Reread them and those words that were so full seem empty

Now the promises are nothing when they once were plenty

If he heard my voice, do you think his heart would stop?

My fear is that one day he will and his stomach will simply drop

Some think that breaking someone’s heart is some kind of token

But sometimes the breaker is the one whose wounds are left open

Don’t let the label insinuate that the my actions were out of malice

I may have started hard-hearted, but tender now and it is he who has calloused

Slowly I float by tiptoeing so as not to awaken what doesn’t belong to me

That should soothe some of the aftershock to some degree