there is a you-spaced hole in my heart,
where you used to fit.

like a piece of glass in my hand,
you were cutting me
so i dropped you to the ground.

with a clink you were no longer my problem
i was worried someone would step on you,
but would find you beautiful in a strange way 
pick you up and clean you off
and be stuck holding you like i was

yet i still miss you 
and resent that i have a hole in my heart
from where your glass shard stabbed me.