the dark under her eyes,

and the pale gaze;

i went to her for some warmth

but i wonder if she was the one who needed me

to be strong.

how unfortunate,

for i am suffering too

from the maladies of hearts

he says distance.

he adds more.

she says flattery.

subtract the guilt,

the over-bearing responsibility.

'A' looks into my eyes

and waits for me to break down (or perhaps, wanting to break down)

i can no longer

break

down

for

i

have 

broken

into

too many pieces

all over again

and again

and again

until

-

and he says 

it is not you.

but i say,

i have heard that before.

but no, it is me

essentially,

i suffer

and in making all of this about me

-

about me

about me

about me

-

in making a mess

out of emotions

that would have remained better off

- 

he says

it is not me

so what is it about?

or who is it about?

him?

for he has believed

mistakenly

but yet believed

and i will let it be

but every time i let "it" be, a part of my over-bearing, guilt-ridden, needy heart loses faith in love