Four. It's empty in the valley of your heart

Sometimes all it takes
to bring me to my knees
is one look from you
with that raised eyebrow,
that sneer.

It's like you can barely
stand to look at me,
the fire in your glare
is enough to make me wish
death would be swift.

And every word I write
is stilted and forced
where they used to flow so
gracefully.

You've stolen them from me
with your anger, your hate
your heartbreak
and all I want is to soothe
your wounds like aloe
but you won't even glance at me.

You're the worst ice queen
I've ever met.
Stop pretending I hurt you
when you ripped my heart from my chest
and tossed it aside
because it wasn't ripe enough.

Your high standards
are a smoke screen
for your fear of being
close to anyone
who could love you.

And your words
they sting,
but I've heard worse
from people scarier than you.

Maybe I should listen to my friends
but I never have been
good at taking advice or
backing away from an open flame.

These cuts sting
but they heal so nicely.
The more you push,
the more I know
I'm right.