THE AFTERMATH OF A BROKEN HEART

My parents laugh from the other room,

Their happiness makes me sad.

I wonder if they are aware

Of my broken heart

Or if they have ever experienced

An ache like mine.

 

His face is everywhere:

In a building with a million corridors 

I can't ignore,

The feeling of a ghost

Lurking sore in the pathways of my mind

There is nothing to be said or done.

 

A source gloated the facts

He wanted to be friends with me

How could that ever be?

When he hurt me

Left me with bruises;

Red and gold

The way tiny holes rip apart souls.

 

I see those surrounding me

Placing the sharred glass back into the mould

Somehow, I know it will be drank from,

Many times more

Don't mistake eyes and words,

For forevers next time around.

acheheartbreaklonlinesslosslove

◄ CRAVING YOU

THE RED ROOM ►

Comments

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Dave D Poet Rhumour

Sat 12th Jul 2014 18:09

Hmm - the cruelty of love discarded by a less feeling partner. You have captured the turmoil well Emma.

For each broken heart the pain is both unique to ourselves and yet still the same as so many have felt before.

At times I have wondered if love on the rebound is the result of two broken hearts being drawn together, ever hoping the pieces will fit and bond... Time truly is a great healer, though sometimes needs a little help and encouragement.

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