Annihilation

I'm just not in love
with you.

Over.
Seven words.
Ten years
faded into the walls
of the bedroom where he said it.

Where he must have
lied awake right next to me,
arms around me,
who knows how many nights,
pondering
what words to use
to erase
Everything.

That night
he slept
calmly, peacefully,
like a baby.

I'm just not in love
with you.

It bounces off
the white bedroom walls.
The white so neutral,
one reason I chose this place
to live our lives.

I'm just not in love
with you.

Off him
sleeping calmly,
looking like an Angel.
My Angel.
My Savior.
My Everything.

I'm just not in love
with you.

Off me.
No feelings.
All feelings.
Fading into the white walls.
Instantly erased.
Annihilated.