I find myself sitting on his porch
with a pipe in one hand and
cigarette in the other.
I stare into the night sky as the
blanket I have wrapped around me
soaks with the teardrops that have been
traveling down my cheek for the last 5 minutes.
What's there to say? I ask myself as the silence becomes almost deafening.
The crickets are chirping so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts.
Everything is numb.
He doesn't really care about you, I think to myself. He doesn't want you anymore.
The words rumble through my head like a terrible thunderstorm.
No, he's never actually said those words to me aloud. But, you know what they say, actions speak louder than words. And that my friend, is why I'm smoking myself into oblivion on his porch at 12:25 in the morning while he sits inside too consumed in his own mind to even fathom how I'm truly feeling in this very moment.