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