Indifferent

He took my heart and looked at it he cocked his head and furrowed his brow at it he blinked his eyes and breathed his breath on it he smelt it and pulled a face at it he turned it over and examined it he stroked it softly and handled it he dropped my heart and stepped away from it he looked down at it and contemplated it his love was empty, I could see it his hands were dirty, he wiped them on his shirt he left my heart there on the floor where he’d let it slip his hands were clean now, he’d made sure of it And as long as he didn’t get too close again he wouldn’t have to face it, he could forget about it so he walked away from my heart, he turned his back on it because sometimes it’s easier to drop a fragile thing than it is to take take care of it