it wasn't about me because you couldn't make it about us,
it was never about us,
she yelled through the incoherent mess of screaming and tears and billowing smoke and alcohol on the floor and the bruises and welts and the closed door
through the six years of seeing each other everyday
and confessing that "i love you" everyday
he looked at her with his big watery eyes
that have never been that big or that watery before.
and she looked back at him with her last, if only, I'm going to leave you eyes.
scrap note