A Short Break-Up Piece

We see names etched in trees, initials in hearts “4-eva,” etched permanently, the greatest accomplishment in the Swiss Army’s name since they dispatched ruthless mercenaries with cold hearts and stone fists. I wish I could engrave your name, carve you into a cumulus with the scar emerging crimson. After a minute it will turn grey and then black, infected with your poisonous spirit and rain down neutralized acid rain, salt tears, all just to prove you were nothing but an ephemeral hobby and not the den of my own being.