Heartache is nothing
Compared to heartbreak.
There is no excuse for mourning
Because there is nothing to mourn.
Heartaches don't get
To dress up in black.
They don't get to cover their windows
In black curtains.
They don't get to play
Sad music throughout the house.
They don't get to grieve
Because there is nothing lost.
They don't get to cry over nothing
Because the tears are shown for nothing.
At least that's what is silently expected
Of those with heartache.
Instead of openly accepting
That loss is now a part of them,
That there is a gaping hole where
Something else once was,
Heartache has to stay silent
Like the prowling lion.
Heartache has no right to a voice,
And they must become a mime
Trapped in a box.
Instead of letting others hear
The shattered pieces fall,
Heartache must strap duct tape
Around itself to keep away the fragments
From fracturing in the first place.
Instead of being okay with puffy red faces
And tear stained cheeks,
Heartaches have to cry in secret
And fake smiles in public.
