Heartless

Is your heartless breaking? Aching? Or is your heartless taking another breath, drawing back with fist clinched to strike again? Never thought I could try so hard to hate someone, and fail every time; because it might be easier if I could hate you both. I say it out loud, in attempt to make it real, but the fact that you chose her over me is the only real thing I see. And it's that fact, that holds me down, hands clutching my neck, strangling every breath from coming. Again and again, all I feel is relentless fear of memories. Like the one when you said, "I don't love you anymore." And then your corrections saying, "Maybe I never did." So instead, I'll hold onto what is right in front of me. Nothing.