And That's That

Now he wants to know how to fix a wrecked up heart.
I sit and ponder:
is there any advice I can offer a boy who's half broken - the same boy who once broke me?

Damn, the irony.

"Raise a glass," I should say.

Let the alcohol simmer down his stupid nerves.
Maybe I should get a bottle and pour it down his throat myself.

I don't ever wish anyone pain
but for the first time in my life, I don't care if he's unwell
I don't feel bad for him

and his glossy eyes
from the ducts that are spilling -
I don't care to help save them.

Let the tears flow.
That dumb crow!
I'm sorry but I don't have a speech to help him

and that's that.