I am not.

Forget it.
I am not going to write another heartbroken poem about you.
You deserve far less than that.
You're not getting a dramatic exit or any of my tears.
I'd rather waste them on a dead dog.

You're not worth a knife to my wrist
Or an icecream coma
and a sappy spanish soap opera.
I am not writing you a tearjerking poem like I tend to at times like this-
about how "sorry" I am for not being good enough.
I don't need you
or any other guy to be happy.

You have girls lined up a mile down the road.
I am not going to waste these precious golden tears on you-
my tears of gold,
or bleed a drop of silver blood for you.

That weakness is gone.