Foretold Hurt

a poem for the breaking hearts

Sometimes,
it's not worth it--
this ripping in two,

the parting from you,
pain so full and whole
I might crumble.

Do you feel that pull?
To question, to condemn,
to yell at God.

Why did it go wrong,
what could I have done,
this is too hard

to hold,
to much to unfold,
union unmold.

I might explode,
I might implode,
this aching was foretold.