"...hearts are broken everyday..."


not a special day, nothing
to make it different from
every other day i've lived
in 42 years. no portent in
the wind, no moments of the
hair rising on the back of
my neck. nothing to tell me
this day is anything other
than a Friday morning.

and yet...

no, it was nothing. the
mountains worked their magic
on me as i drove home in their
shadow, them standing majestic
and me singing to them, driving
too fast in my little black
car, full of the pleasure of
being away from being needed
too much.

no, i had no idea my heart would
break again, break in aching
silence waiting for words that
never came. it's familiar, this
pain. i welcome it as an old friend.
i'll set it a place at the table when
i eat alone today. i'll leave a place
for it next to me in bed when i go lay
down in a few minutes. i'll smooth
the blankets on one side, maybe turn
my body towards that hollow feeling
and wrap my arms around the pillows
and pretend it was you i was holding
in my dream.

nothing special. just an ordinary day.



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