the sound of silence

Sh listen, listen carefully, sh can you hear it? If your quiet enough just quiet enough you can hear the creaking, hear my heart breaking again ripping at the scars that are its seams. Apparently you can see it in my eyes too, sadness, that’s what he tells me, the breaker, said he could see the sorrow in my eyes. I’m doing my best not to chastise him and not to fall into told guilt trip habits that I used to give him as I did have one of those “if you love them let them go” revelations a couple days ago and just as I was warming up to the idea he dropped the bomb. I didn’t see it coming but I’m almost sure it had sought out my heat of comfortability and now I am blown to pieces, left to pull it together and not make a scene in the midst of it all, a scene I will not make for I have learned that guilt and scenes only ruin my on paths. And so I must trust that nothing will change and in the mean time hide that sorrow in my eyes with some kind of substance.