My mother taught me that I shouldn’t keep
My heart in a place that doesn’t feel like home.
I am ready to fall out with all of your friends,
I am ready to be shamed for what I have done,
I am ready to hurt (I am sorry I hurt you),
I never lied, cheated or argued with you,
And I am still in shock that feelings can change so fast-
when they felt like certainty and magnetism to begin with,
I will get used to being asked ‘whats wrong with you?’ or ‘are you gey?’
Because you’re one hell of a lover that I let go of.
I will get used to sharp elbows and your eyes,
Such a velvety brown, now bloodshot,
person, I am sorry I broke your heart but
My mother taught me that I shouldn’t
Keep my heart in a place that doesn’t feel like home.