The new guy at my work was just talking. Just now. He was talking about his wife. How he met her. How happy he is. How it was hard for him for years. How perfect timing was and how everything fell together.
And I was going to cry.
I still might.
And it wouldn't be the first time;
It happened first after she left me. I was just listening to music, when the song came on.
Love Me Anymore, by Michael Bublé.
Her song. In my mind, it is. It makes me think of her, the lyrics, the melody, the voice, and the fact that she brought me the album.
I was listening to it. Thinking of her. Heart broken. Then it happened. Tears, they just started falling. I couldn't control it. I cried openly at work. But the type of silent crying, that kids do when they just can't stop but they don't want attention.
The others in the room could see me. Hear me. Leering at me with their eyes. Their stares planted deep into my spine like knives or acupuncture needles.
They said nothing. Did nothing.
Why would they?
The new guy started crying - who cares.
I thought somebody might. Nobody did. Nobody asked. Nobody cared.
And I fear, it would be the same now.
Maybe not, but I sure as hell don't want to find out.
I'd rather just cry into A's shoulder, while her soothing voice cradles my tears and validates my pain.
Where is she?
Why isn't she here with me.
But then again... I'd never awaken her to burden her with my problems.
She deserves better.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a Broken Man
PoesíaHere you will find short examples of poetry, from me, a broken man. I'm not as broken as others, but as a writer, one of the most creative and vulnerable things you can be is broken. If you have one take away from these, please make it this; Check u...
