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.