Mirage.

fault-line.

I confess.

It was I,

It was my fault all along.

I loved too much,

I cared too much.

I trusted too much.

You took her to bed,

I smelt her on your shirt.

A dent on our new car,

A line cracking through the wall.

We fall apart,

We split.

I was at fault.

You say,

It wasn't a mistake.

It was confusion.

You didn't hesitate,

To replace me,

Now, her cherry lips

On the blue shirt,

I bought for your birthday.

No one's fault,

But my own.

I should have let you go,

When you had walked out of the door.

You said,

I was the one who you loved,

But you found her.

Now, you crawl back to her,

Every time I break another piece of China.

A fault-line,

In the middle of our

hearts, bodies and souls.