How many

How many heartbreaks are officially required
To crucify this heart on the pillars of the soul?
How many ineffective words of love need transpire
To appease vanity before it destroys it whole?

How many worthless tears must be pitifully shed
To wash dry memory’s sordid, miserable past;
And with the heart pronounce her equally dead
So neither does the other thankfully outlast?

How many rusted nails need be rammed into sinew,
For the pain to deaden, for the agony to end?
And must it be such a spectacle in public view,
With no respect left with either enemy or friend?

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