It’s beyond her comprehension
that I would not care,
or would not want to hear about 
anything she’d share.
She is unwilling to accept
that as far as I
am concerned, she is but a void.
More like a blackfly
to swat at. A nuisance really. 
Not one to feel anger toward,
or even pity.
Not to cry and sling snot over;
there isn’t any. 
I burnt that bridge. She cannot cross.
I went on my way. 
She can bask in her delusions.
I’ve no more to say.