the light shifted grey down over
her face
she did not put herself into
crying she just
sat on her bed and laughed at the irony
of it all. that
nothing had really changed
that
her only romance was
chemical (the dopamine he triggered
in her psychotic ticking
brain). she’s over him now,
anyway. let the
poetry stand as witness to this
because apparently
he had a girlfriend this entire time
and apparently he was
better in verse than in real life.
she sits alone and misses
what he represented there is
glory and shadow in all
of it, all this time