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