"I love you,  goodbye",
The tombstone read
in the relationship graveyard
where our love did bed. 

But, who was I?

Who was I?

What figment of me

stood in your head?

An abuser,

too cold to touch,

weighing on your heart

a piece of lead.

Never forgiven, for

never having understood

that tears were proof

of emotions it led.

Am I forgotten?

Is this the end?

"I'm Sorry, I Love you",

the card I left,

read.