The Origin of Over [Poem]

I sit here contemplating
my brain on hyper speed
demonstrating, what it's like
to feel someone's
heart breaking...

No one makes a sound
once that final statement
slips from your lips--

Over.

How could a four-letter
word mean so much to me
and nothing at all to you,

almost cataclysmic how
instantly I felt my mind enter
an empire of complete revulsion,
now that I have to bear
this life, this hell alone.

Over.

[stop saying it]

All I can do is say it, dream about it,
put it in a flame of hatred and eat it,
let it bury itself inside my wilted
veins and materialize into the
person I never wanted to exist.

Seconds bleed through the time zones
drying as scabs that I collect
over the years, to remind me that every
"over" has an origin.