DELETE

I put you out of what I am.
I don't think about you when I drive through town.
You don't jump into my mind when I see that truck.
I've erase the piece of you that became a piece of me.
It's like I'm clean.
But in truth, I'm still not sure I want to be.
I'm free of you, but not of myself.
I'm not sure what I'd prefer.
What I'd prefer is to never have had all of this.
To press "delete" on whatever this was.