There’s nothing poetic about it
A broken heart
Precursors are set
Gut feelings long before anything takes place
Something instinctual sits in your stomach
Your insides turn into a witches brew in a cauldron
As anxiety boils up
It’s coming and nothing can subdue this unstoppable natural disaster
This isn’t hurricane or a tornado
There is no possible way of out running away from the carnage that will soon ensue
The heart is tied to the tracks and the bullet train is right on schedule
The call comes
Being understanding is courtesy  
Words released under each breath do not match the ones lingering in your head
But you don’t speak your mind
How could you
It ends and the heart along with it