Midnight bleeds through the blinds,
her perfume still a ghost on my sweater.
Your text glows—“I miss you”—
but I’m kissing blame in another’s mouth.
Heart splits like headphones,
left side loyalty, right side lust,
both beats out of sync.
If I pull the truth like a knife,
will we bleed out or stitch?
Either way, the night keeps score—
and I’m already losing her
to the echo of my own goodbye.