last time my heart broke, I heard
the clump, and felt
the crash, as my heart
disengaged to pieces
often, I smile
at the face of pain.
She looked into my eyes
bent a knee
stuck out a hand
opened a palm
attempted at minimizing
the abundance in impact
With an uncertain laugh
(of regret, realization, stubbornness)
“But what about me?!” I blurted.
Desperate and inundated.
The more, she burst in a timid laugh meant to calm the opponent,
like the sun shining on spilled laundered liquid
thrown away. Gliding on dirty ground.
A timid laugh meant to bring joy—
as I usually do for her—in this suffocating moment.
I could still see
a squinting eye struggling with restraining the rain,
making a slight appearance; a quick escape
on her face.
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