Aftermath
To those with broken hearts
She settled into a pitch black room facing a dry wall corner, crossed legs, clasped hands.
The smell still lingered on the black, lace blouse she had worn time and time again.
The silky fabric in which he once held onto, the scent of which sank in.
Every time she inhaled, a puzzle piece of memory stored within the fabric, unfolded and replayed vivid details about the hands that once held her.
The white walls around her started to become his eyes, a piercing green with a speck of blue outside the right cornea.
A warm clamp of rough, worn skin, touched her shoulders and massaged gently, as if tension was to somehow be relieved from a scenario like hers.
She was scared of what the darkness behind her entailed, but knew better than to risk looking back.
For looking back would surely mean seeing the past for truly what it was, and not the facade she made of it.
A soft black tear ran from the outside corner of her left, bright blue eye and she felt the warm, damp running pattern as if he was the tear, running from her.
The droplet expanded onto her moist, soft lips and just a tiny molecule seeped inside.
She tasted him.
All he was
All he ever had been
And now all he ever will be.
She slowly rose from her position on the off green carpet that lay beneath her.
She took one step back,
Then another,
Then another,
Then turned with hand prepared to face her demons.
She turned around, eyes wide open and weapons drawn.
She then fell to her knees, one by one cracking in a harmonious pattern, and she moaned.
For she hadn’t seen him, or his deception,
But herself, and the monster she created.
Thats where she lies, in the shattered mirror she fractured through love.
When love settles in,
It doesn’t only settle into the being of both structures,
It settles into the being that is you.
