Work keeps my mind occupied. Holding back tears cried in the night.

Early evening then requires the facade of functionality-

…prepare the food.

…wipe down the counters

….dance to the tune of a lonely reality.

I could phone a friend,

Or fall off the wagon and drink a pint.

Better yet, paint the town red and white,

or even blue…

Anything to forget,

My heart remains a permanent shade of you.

Each day begins with the hope that I might heal, yet before the sun goes down I replay the sound of your voice,

And remember the playful look in your eyes…

Once more frozen–

Grief’s grip on my broken heart,

Drowning in love’s tortuous lies.

I want to flirt with you and

feel butterflies on the inside.

I want to feel the corners of my lips ache from the way you make me smile.

And for a while–ride the dopamine train you seem to always bring.

How’s that for a rhyme,

My greatest drug of all time?

Open heart
Open wound
I’ve been trying to stop the bleeding
But the thread’s too weak.
The tourniquets I’ve tied won’t hold.
The words I’ve tried….

You called.

You came in,
Sent electricity to my heart
And then you removed it.
Walked out–
Gone dark.

And I’m left lying here on the table unable to move.

My vision stares out at the empty fluorescent, white walls. My eyes glaze over and the familiar objects I once knew become blurred as they lose their shape.

The cold, metal table underneath me becomes my final place.

Cords are still connected, forcing my lungs to breath, but there is no heart, just a temporary machine attempting to pump the blood.

I no longer move.