Goodbye
In the beginning, there are mere words:
sharp,
cutting,
soul-piercing.
Words that wound,
that penetrate like daggers
flung aimlessly.
Caught in that moment of consumption,
the sole intent of the words
is to shatter,
to devour.
Then arrives the breaking point.
Excuses crumble,
justifications dissolve.
Anger surges,
turning once-harmonious worlds
disposable.
As you approach climax,
memories tiptoe,
peeping into your everyday,
in the stirring of your coffee,
whispering through TV screens,
echoing in your favorite songs.
They clink on plates and cups,
sink into pillows,
cling to walls and carpets,
and hide
within receipts.
Amidst the chaos of scattered bills,
memories persist,
splashing reminders of shared lives,
now seemingly meaningless.
Yet, in the face of lingering memories,
the sharp blade of hurtful words
prevails like a falling silk scarf.
So you lock those memories away,
concealing them in shadows,
afraid to reveal your vulnerability.
In this silent battle between what is
and what was,
the hurtful words
emerge triumphant,
casting a shadow
over the love
that once bloomed in spring,
leaving you
to say goodbye,
weighed down
by the burden of memories.
