Death of a Relationship

My Broken Heart

We are a cadaver
inspected by a mortician.

When my chest is sliced open,
they ripped my heart out
and gave it to you
as a token of my melancholy.

They open up my brain
and examine why this happened,
why love was not enough.

Here we lie devoid of life,
our breaths no longer in sync,
our held hands torn apart.

Why did our affections flatline?
Why did desire depart from us?

Why did it have to end this way?
Why couldn’t we be happy
to just be together?

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