Pawn shop.

Cash the heart
and spend the remains
in a dimly lit bar,
where the girl only remembers your name
due to a social network site
and a lift to school.
 
I'm not going to heal,
what a laugh my pathetic side gave me
when she cried in your arms and softened under your breath.
Today I showed her  
the ex's and how you are the least attractive man she's dated.
 
How comical! Now is for the spiders
to raise their arms and legs to tell me "Stop,
what if no one likes you? What if you see him with someone else? What if you hate yourself?"
"What if I live my life wondering whether I match up? What if I see him with someone else anyway? I don't hate myself."
 
The foolish spiders run away,
the telephone is disconnected,
his social network page is deleted
and I feel the sudden need to be alone.
I'm soft, I'm not that fucking soft. Lighten me of my load.