Silence. Time stretches dim as
waiting lengthens, widens, deepens.
Tapping, scrolling,
phone always in reach, a millstone, a
brick.
Busy work, hands kept occupied, but
the mind roams where it will.
It flitters, feeling the wound and
darting away, as the pain flares
physical. Pins and needles of the soul.

A tune heard, music flows and the heart lightens.
Laughter at a droll passage, so maybe the
pain is easing.
But salted tears drown the following hours and
sleep is the only escape.

Can a heart so easily broken be
trusted to choose friendships more wisely in future? Or should it be
shut in a tin box, protected from
harm done and harm inflicted?

Pain upon pain, one
wrong choice follows on the
heels of another; surely there is nothing left to offer.

Can’t never seems to be an option, but
shouldn’t would be the better choice to avoid the
inevitable betrayal.