Bitter Apple

Bitter apple spray
keeps me from chewing the wounds
that
you have unknowingly inflicted.
What hurts worse?
The sting of the spray,
or the ripping of my heart in two?
It's hard to say.
Both are sharp, deep sensations that cut deep into my flesh,
my soul,
my fortress.

And here I am wondering,
is this just a petty plot for revenge?
To end things on your terms?
Or am I just not,
as I have never been,
good enough?

Tell me true,
don't speak in rhymes.
I want to know.
Am I just a memory for you?