CLXXX.

Something written in a book,
About how to get over you,
I had to make you into art.
So I did, and so I do.
All the girls I have met,
All the hands that I shake,
Are more than enough
To keep your memory at bay.
I am doing all that I can
To become what you detest.
I hope these words find you,
With a hole in your chest.